


sun, moon, and stars

by oldpapertowns



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depends on how you look at it, Earth Rumble, Gen, Getting Together, I promise, M/M, Mutual Pining, Turtleducks, however azula is not, mentions of child abuse bc ozai fucking sucks, no war but ozai is still undeniably a huge piece of SHIT, not really slow burn but also kinda slow burn, very incredibly not canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29225823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldpapertowns/pseuds/oldpapertowns
Summary: “You okay, dude? You look like you’re barely hanging on.”The son of the tyrannical and power-hungry Ozai, dejected prince of the yokai, shrugs and speaks. His voice comes out rusty, like it hasn’t been used in a while. “I’ve been better.”Sokka hums sympathetically, ignoring the rational part of him (which sounds suspiciously like Katara) that’s yelling at him to get the fuck out of there. “I can relate. Wanna talk about it? This table has two seats, after all.”The Yokai Prince’s bleary gaze shoots back up to meet Sokka’s warily. “I don’t want to waste your time.”Sokka shrugs with a wry grin. “We’ve both got a lot of that, don’t we?”OR: a ‘when the day met the night’ songfic
Relationships: Iroh & Sokka, Iroh & The Gaang (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), hakoda & sokka, past Sokka/Yue
Comments: 39
Kudos: 127





	1. if in exchange for your time, i give you this smile

**Author's Note:**

> this was born into existence bc i got an idea and sent over 150 texts to a friend who i shall refer to as Motherfucking Bitch. thanks, asshole /lh
> 
> also ch 1 has been beta read !! VERY big thanks to c00l________k1d (8 underscores) for being a very thorough beta, reading through + making sense of all those words and making something of them, and giving me instructions when necessary. shes stepped this whole work up by a Lot and is indeed very cool
> 
> big thanks to you, reader, for clicking on this fic and giving it a shot! happy reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka vaguely remembers ghost stories told around a crackling fire from when he was younger - formless spirits that would lure children away from their families, malevolent gods that would flip boats over, dragging their prey underwater - but he’s intrigued enough by this man to temporarily disregard any and all advice to stay away from Ozai and his family.
> 
> So he stays sitting and watches as the Yokai Prince stalks over to the opposite side of the table, flopping down into the seat in a decidedly un-princely manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some vocab:  
> yokai - supernatural monsters and spirits in japanese folklore, though do keep in mind that traditionally not all of them are malevolent; some are actually helpful, some are,,, kinda useless but neat nonetheless. i tried to include creatures/spirits/gods from indigenous legends and various east asian countries as well.  
> sake - an alcoholic drink made by fermenting rice  
> okocho - a small cup. think maybe a bit bigger than a shot glass  
> huangjiu - an alcoholic drink made by mixing boiled grains with a starter culture, which is followed by “saccharification and fermentation” (via wikipedia). apparently it’s usually served warm, but sweet huangjiu is a thing and is often served chilled during summer  
> pls lmk if i’ve gotten something incorrect/missed a term! i’ll do my best to fix it
> 
> also a few things you might want to know:  
> » the gods do not interact with the demigods or the mortals often - the only times they do are when they decide to be born into the world. demigods don’t interact with mortals often either  
> » the gaang, zuko, azula, ozai, and iroh are demigods - not immortal, but they live several eons longer than mortals. they’ll die if dealt a fatal wound  
> » aang is a demigod bc he’s the avatar. same concept as in the series - peacemaker whose soul is reincarnated every few centuries, so that the avatars don’t turn into jaded gods. because there’s no war, he was trained on how to enter and leave the avatar state safely and can use it for brief periods of time as kinda a power-up. he’s also a master of all four elements bc he had way more time to train and less threats of dying. (all the other benders are also masters bc they’ve had literal centuries to learn and practice)  
> » that being said, ozai still attacks civilians for,,, really no reason (hence the ‘ozai is a piece of shit’ tag) (among other reasons), but he has enough power that nobody ever manages to stop him  
> » there is no sozin’s comet. i hate sozin’s comet. also sozin needs a reason to like. not declare war  
> » this means the airbenders are still alive.
> 
> chapter title from ‘when the day met the night’ by panic at the disco

Cicadas are humming, and the fragrance of sweet jasmine fills the air as Sokka reclines at a smooth wooden table in front of the Jasmine Dragon, savoring the cool shade of the umbrella trees in an attempt to escape the stifling midsummer heat. Sure, maybe not drinking hot tea would help, but Iroh’s tea is ridiculously good and everyone knows it tastes best when it’s steaming.

He’d only been there for a short time when Sokka hears footsteps come to a stop directly behind him. Startled, he turns around to find a tall stranger with a single honey-colored eye, barely visible from behind a glossy curtain of hair. He knows what yellow eyes mean, knows what talking to this guy could mean, but he doesn’t even know if what he’s heard whispered in hushed conversations about the yokai royals is true.

With narrowed eyes, Sokka takes a closer look at this guy. He looks - to put it bluntly - like shit. From what little the Water Tribe warrior can see of his face, he’s extremely good-looking, but he has some serious bags under his eyes and his shoulders slump like he’s carrying the weight of several worlds on his shoulders.

He's still standing there uneasily, eyes now fixed on the ground, so Sokka clears his throat. The guy doesn’t look up.

“You okay, dude? You look like you’re barely hanging on.”

The son of the tyrannical and power-hungry Ozai, dejected prince of the yokai, shrugs and speaks. His voice comes out rusty, like it hasn’t been used in a while. “I’ve been better.”

Sokka hums sympathetically, ignoring the rational part of him (which sounds suspiciously like Katara) that’s yelling at him to get the fuck out of there. “I can relate. Wanna talk about it? This table has two seats, after all.”

The Yokai Prince’s bleary gaze shoots back up to meet Sokka’s warily. “I don’t want to waste your time.”

Sokka shrugs with a wry grin. “We’ve both got a lot of that, don’t we?”

He vaguely remembers ghost stories told around a crackling fire from when he was younger - formless spirits that would lure children away from their families, malevolent gods that would flip boats over, dragging their prey underwater - but he’s intrigued enough by this man to temporarily disregard any and all advice to stay away from Ozai and his family.

The yellow-eyed heir tilts his head, bangs not moving from their place shading the left side of his face as he takes in the blue-clad warrior in with a calculating look. He sighs and stalks over to the opposite side of the table, flopping down into the seat in a decidedly un-princely manner. “I guess. I feel like I should give you something in exchange for your time.”

With a sly grin, Sokka places his chin on his hand, elbow on the table. “What about a smile? It’s amazing how something so tiny can change your mood sometimes.”

The Yokai Prince stares at Sokka, emotionless. Sokka shrugs. “It was worth a try.” He almost sticks his hand out for a handshake, but thinks better of it. “I’m Sokka.”

“Zuko,” comes the short reply.

Sokka waits, but he says nothing else. Ooo-kay, apparently he needs a lot of prompting. Sitting back, he gives Zuko an encouraging smile. “What’s bothering you?”

Zuko sighs so deeply that Sokka feels like he should’ve been sucked into his lungs. “I don’t want to burden you or anything.”

Sokka raises an eyebrow. “Dude, I’m  _ offering _ to listen. You’re not gonna burden me. Even if you do, that’s okay. Just don’t, like, break my little heart or leave me all alone here.”

Zuko frowns, which only serves to make him look grumpy in an endearing way. “What?”

“Never mind.” Sokka shakes his head. “Let’s talk for a little while, about your problems or about something else. What’s up?”

“Just worried about my destiny,” Zuko mutters, sounding almost reluctant. He’s fixated on an invisible spot on the surface of the table. “You know, the usual.”

Sokka hums wisely, having no idea what Zuko’s talking about but praying that he sounds like he does. “What exactly about your destiny is worrying you?”

“I feel like I’m going to fuck it up,” Zuko says simply. “Like I don’t deserve to be where I am or like nothing I do is going to make a difference.”

“I can’t help you with the first two things.” Sokka meets Zuko’s gaze, not feeling any revulsion at its golden color as he’d expected he would. “But I can tell you something: Every action you take, every little thing you do? That makes ripples in the fabric of our world. For example, we met today, and now I know someone new. That’s a difference you’ve made. Also, if you truly believe that you can’t change your own destiny, there’s nothing to do but move along your string and follow the path the fates have predetermined.”

“I guess.” Zuko isn’t slouching as much anymore, but he’s still staring at the table.

“There’s more, though, isn’t there?” Sokka asks. “Come on, you can tell me.”

Zuko shakes his head and stands up abruptly. “No. I’ve wasted enough of your time already.” He’s frowning even harder now. “Thank you,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.

Sokka frowns, beginning to rise awkwardly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” Zuko turns to go, and Sokka calls after him after a moment of hesitation.

“Will I see you again?”

Zuko pauses, head turning halfway. “Maybe.” Then he disappears into the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se, leaving behind nothing but a parting glance, and Sokka sits back down.

Zuko hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no, either. Sokka smiles at this thought, and takes a sip of his tea as he settles into his seat.

* * *

It’s been a few decades by the time Sokka sees Zuko again, but when he does, it’s in a crowded pub. The chattering of the crowd fills his ears as he makes his way to a bartender, dropping a few copper pieces in her hand and receiving a glass of sweet huangjiu in return. He nods his thanks, the coolness of the cup a welcome reprieve from the warmness of bodies in the room.

He’s just finishing off his drink when he spots a hooded Zuko sitting at the counter, seemingly staring off into nowhere. The sight is a bit of a surprising one; Sokka frequents this tavern often, but he’s never seen the dark-haired man before, which prompts the question:  _ What is Zuko doing here? _ The brooding, umber-eyed prince had crossed his mind quite a few times, and Sokka had wondered when he would see Zuko again in the past.

Debating whether he should go up to Zuko, Sokka carefully surveys the half-slouched Yokai Prince. Zuko looks like he wants to be left alone, but against his better judgement Sokka eventually winds his way gracefully through the throng of revelers to find answers- and perhaps, just to satisfy his own curiosity.

“What are you doing here?” Sokka asks as soon as he’s within earshot of Zuko, grinning widely.

Startled, Zuko looks up, then returns his guarded gaze to the counter. His voice is huskier than normal, and a bottle on the counter seems to be the culprit. “I could ask you the same thing.”

His hair isn’t covering his left eye this time, which means Sokka can see the burn scar that covers his left eye and seems to go back to his ear. He wonders what the cause of it is while taking it in - the scar carves the left side of Zuko’s face into a permanent scowl, the vivid red of it shocking against his pale skin. Sokka nearly opens his mouth to ask about it, but decides against it when he remembers that Zuko had hidden it when they’d first met. The scar looks cool as hell, but it’s decidedly not any of Sokka’s business.

Sokka shrugs, gesturing towards the masses. “I’m here to unwind a bit. I must say, mortals know how to party.”

“I guess.” Zuko waves down the bartender without saying anything else. “Another bottle of sake, please.” One’s placed in front of him, and Zuko places two silver pieces in the bartender’s hand.

Sokka frowns, dragging a spare chair closer and sitting down next to Zuko. “That doesn’t sound good. What happened?”

Zuko fills the ochoko to the brim and drinks all of its contents in a single sip. “Someone I was close to died.”

“I’m sorry,” Sokka says immediately.

Zuko just shrugs. “That’s what happens when you take mortals as lovers and friends, though, isn’t it?”

Sokka huffs out a laugh, remembering Suki. “Yeah. Sometimes I think it’d be better to just be mortal, doomed to die within the century. Then at least I’d die without losing most of the friends I’ve made.”

Zuko stops downing sake just long enough to raise an eyebrow at Sokka. “You’d give up your waterbending?”

Sokka snorts. “I can’t bend. I’m basically just a normal person with a freakishly long lifespan.”

“What?” Zuko frowns, cup in front of his mouth. “Why not?”

“Fuck if I know.” Sokka takes the okocho that’s been placed in front of him and fills it up, taking a sip. “My sister and I were both blessed, her by La and me by Tui, but I never got any waterbending skills.” He doesn’t mention the fact that his dad getting blessed as well sometimes makes him wonder, awake late at night, if he hadn’t been enough for Tui. Sokka hasn’t mentioned it to anybody but Yue, and look where  _ that _ had gotten him. He grimaces and lets a large gulp of sake slide down his throat. Zuko definitely hadn’t paid enough for the good stuff; this shit burns.

“Huh.” Zuko places his cup down. “That’s weird.”

“Tell me about it.” Sokka finishes his sake. “You wanna get out of here? It’s a bit loud.”

Zuko nods, picking up their cups and the sake as he stands up.

Sokka looks at Zuko, incredulous. “You’re taking the cups without giving them anything in return?”

Zuko rolls his eyes at Sokka and drops three gold pieces on the counter, which the bartender scoops up immediately. “Happy?”

“Never.” Sokka smirks, only half joking.

Zuko rolls his eyes again. “Let’s leave.”

“Yes, sir.” Sokka stands up, following Zuko out of the bar and into the cool night air. “Got a place in mind?”

Zuko scowls at Sokka as he leads them… somewhere. Sokka’s pretty sure they’re making their way through a forest or an incredibly heavily wooded park. “Do you always talk this much?”

Sokka grins. “No.”

Zuko rolls his eyes for the third time in the past minute (seriously, that can’t be good for him), then stops as a clearing appears in front of them. “This is the place,” he says, walking over to the pond that’s in the middle of the clearing.

Sokka makes his way to the pond as well, looking around the clearing. There isn’t much to see. “Did you randomly choose this place?” He asks, curious.

Zuko shakes his head. “It’s one of the places I know are safe from my father’s scou- guards.”

Sokka notes Zuko’s slip-up but doesn’t comment on it. “Do you two not get along or something?”

“No,” is Zuko’s curt response. “Why are you asking so many questions? Is this an interrogation?”

“If you think about it, an interrogation is just a way to get to know someone.”

Zuko is unamused. “I doubt you’d actually want to get to know me.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody else does,” says Zuko as if he’s stating a fact. “Why would you be any different?”

Sokka gapes at Zuko, whose expression starts turning self-conscious.

“What?” he asks.

“What the fuck kind of environment did you grow up in?” Sokka asks.

Zuko’s face closes off, and he lowers himself down to the ground next to the pond smoothly. When he speaks, his voice is cold. “A royal one.”

Okay, maybe Sokka deserves that. They barely know each other, after all.

He flops down onto the ground as well, then gasps as he finally sees the contents of the pond. “Turtleducks!”

Zuko’s shoulders lower a bit at his exclamation. “Yes. The fact that they’re here is just a perk.”

Sokka searches his pockets for something to feed them and wilts when he can’t find anything to offer them, patting his pockets to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. Zuko’s looking at him, amused, and Sokka pauses his searching to glare at him. “What? Do you have bread hidden in that outfit of yours?”

Zuko’s mouth quirks up into a half smile. “I do, actually.” He reaches into his robe and brings out a small bag. “Not bread, though. Rice.”

“And you just… keep it on you? At all times?” That’s some serious dedication.

Zuko shrugs. “Yeah. It’s a small bag, and they’ve gotten used to me feeding them. Usually they’d be all over me by now, but you’re new, so.” He gestures towards the turtleducks, which are getting bolder and swimming closer to them. “They’re being careful.”

Sokka pouts, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible as he sticks out a hand. One brave baby turtleduck is waddling closer, and he makes sure not to move.

“Careful,” Zuko cautions as he holds out a handful of rice.

“Why?” Sokka asks as the turtleduck reaches within petting distance of his hand. He moves his hand closer, wanting to pet it, but it snaps at his hand, catching the dark blue leather that covers the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Sokka snatches his hand back. “Hey!”

“They bite.” Zuko concludes his warning with a raised eyebrow in Sokka’s direction. “Just like that.”

Sokka splutters, squinting suspiciously at the turtleduck at his feet. It quacks innocently, and he turns his suspicion on Zuko. “How come you aren’t getting bitten?”

“I come here a lot. They’re used to me.” Zuko throws the rest of the rice in his hand into the water. “The fact that I feed them doesn’t hurt, though.”

Sokka eyes the turtleducks, who are quacking happily as they splash around in the pond, then flicks his eyes over to the bag of rice that Zuko’s holding. “Can I try feeding them?”

Zuko gives Sokka a small smile. “I thought you’d ask. Hold out your hand.”

Sokka does so, and Zuko takes his hand into his own, which is incredibly warm. Sokka gets distracted by the softness of Zuko’s fingers, then jolts back to the present as the cool rice grains cascade into his open palm.

“Just offer the rice to them,” Zuko instructs, letting go of Sokka’s hand, and he’s surprised to find he misses Zuko’s heat.

Sokka does as Zuko shows him, laughing as the turtleducks peck at the rice. “It tickles!” He looks over at Zuko with a grin.

Zuko’s watching, the smile on his face more genuine than any of the ones Sokka’s seen on his face so far.  _ He looks way better when he smiles, _ Sokka thinks, and resolves to make him laugh out loud later.

Decision made, he turns back to the turtleducks. When they’re biting more at his hand rather than the rice, he drops the rest into the water and dusts off his hands as he asks, “Have you given any of these turtleducks names?”

Zuko frowns disapprovingly. “Giving the turtleducks names would mean making a bond with them, which is a bad idea if you’re bound to live centuries longer.”

Sokka starts grinning. “You gave them names, didn’t you.”

“Only some of them!” Zuko protests. He points to the baby turtleduck that’s sticking close to its mother. “Like him. I named him Haru.”

The name rings a bell in Sokka’s mind. “Haru… like the guy from the mining village?”

Zuko looks surprised. “You know him too?”

Sokka decides to keep his hook-ups to himself. “Yeah, you could say that. Small world.” Then a thought occurs to him. “...You didn’t name Haru the turtleduck after Haru the mortal, did you?”

Zuko doesn’t respond but his face is slightly pink, and Sokka guffaws. “You totally did! How romantic, Zuko!”

“It’s not like that!” Zuko splutters, face pinker than before. “It’s just- He’s just-”

“Hot as hell?” Sokka offers.

“No!” Then, seeing Sokka’s face, Zuko mutters, looking anywhere but at Sokka. “I was going to say cute.”

“Hey, no judgement.” Sokka winks. “He’s good-looking. We can agree on that much, yeah?”

Sighing in a resigned way, Zuko nods. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay, but-” Sokka checks around them before leaning closer conspiratorially. “Have you seen his new mustache-goatee combination?”

Zuko looks at Sokka with horror. “His  _ what? _ ”

“Exactly!” Sokka throws his hands up. “And to make it worse, he has the audacity to still look better than the average person!”

“Who do you think told him it would be a good idea?” asks Zuko, still aghast.

“Good question, actually. I have no idea.” Sokka gives a mournful sigh. “Whoever it is, I hope they tell him to shave it all off soon.”

Zuko nods, then changes the subject with all the gracefulness of an elephant koi on fire. “The mother turtleduck is named Izumi.”

“What about this one?” Sokka points at the turtleduck that had bitten him.

“She doesn’t have a name,” Zuko says. “But I call her Bastard sometimes.”

Sokka gasps. “That’s a horrible name!”

“Got a better one?” Zuko asks drily.

“Of course I do.” Sokka puffs out his chest. “They don’t call me the Naming Master for nothing.”

“They do?” Zuko asks, bemused.

“Of course!” Sokka doesn’t mention that it’s his self-proclaimed title. “So I’m going to give Bastard a new name. Maybe… Bitey McBiteface?”

Zuko shrugs. “Sure.”

The two of them drift off into comfortable silence, the quiet broken only by the soft quacking of turtleducks.

Feeling that the atmosphere is slightly friendlier than before, Sokka decides to ask a question, the answer to which he’s been wondering about for a while. “Are you doing okay? A death of a loved one is never fun.”

The faint smile that had found its place on Zuko’s face drops off, and he turns his face towards the turtleducks. He sighs. “I’m doing better than I usually would have been, I think. As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m glad that we were in the same bar tonight.”

Sokka picks up Bitey McBiteface and nestles her in his hand, against the warmth of his torso. “It was no problem, Zuko. I hope you know that.”

Zuko ducks his head, averting his eyes. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“What were you even doing in that bar?” Sokka asks, stroking Bitey’s head with a finger as she closes her eyes in bliss. “You know we can’t get drunk as demigods.”

Swirling his finger in the water, the bag of rice tucked away again, Zuko shrugs. “The burn’s kind of nice. It brings me back to myself.”

Sokka side-eyes Zuko, not liking how he relies on pain. The dislike must be clear on his face, because Zuko glances his way and looks away again, hunching his shoulders.

“I don’t do it much?” he tries.

“Sure,” Sokka agrees blandly. “Try not to do it at all. That’s not healthy.” Zuko sighs, and Sokka softens his tone. “Wanna talk about whoever it is?”

Zuko gazes over the still water in the turtleduck pond, his mind somewhere else entirely. “Her name was Mai. We met through my sister, but hit it off well. Or as well as we could back then, with my stunted social skills and all. To be honest, I think Azula was trying to set us up.” He snorts. “It kinda worked, but we were better off not dating.” His face grows nostalgic. “She grew to become one of my closest friends, and the most trusted. I like to think we worked well together.”

Sokka smiles. “She sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah.” Zuko looks into his lap. “She was.”

“Do you want to talk more about her?” Sokka asks, wondering if he’s overstepping a boundary here. But fuck it, Zuko had sounded so empty in the bar that his protective instincts are kicking into overdrive. “What were her hobbies? Any interesting ones?”

“Oh, yeah. She threw knives at people.”

Zuko, Sokka is learning, is rather blunt sometimes.

“She threw… knives?” he repeats. “At people? Was she an assassin or something?”

“No,” is Zuko’s light response. “She just liked throwing them.”

“...Ah. That’s an interesting hobby.” Sokka doesn’t have much else to say; how Zuko manages to find friends with deadly skills is beyond him.

Zuko raises his eyebrow at Sokka. “You can’t really talk. You like throwing boomerangs.”

Sokka’s mouth makes a wide ‘O’ in outrage. “That- boomerang-throwing is an art! A boomerang is a practical tool and an incredible weapon!” Sokka’s too offended to ask how Zuko knows about his boomerangs.

“And a knife isn’t?” Zuko retorts, looking wholly unimpressed.

Sokka sighs, conceding. Zuko - 1, Sokka - 0.

“She made her own knives,” Zuko says after a while, leaning back on his hands. He smiles when a turtleduck crawls into his lap, shifting his weight into one arm to pet the turtleduck with the other absentmindedly. “Said she didn’t trust anybody to make them properly. And honestly, I don’t think anybody could have. Her knives were so beyond what any blacksmith could make that they might as well have been made by the gods themselves.”

Sokka’s eyebrows shoot up. “They were that special?”

Zuko nods, still smiling faintly. “And she was deadly accurate with them, not to mention with other… sharp objects. Like icicles.”

“Is there a story behind that?” Sokka’s starting to get invested.

“Yeah. It’s not that interesting, though. A fish got impaled and I fell into a fountain.”

Sokka goggles. “ _ Not that interesting _ ?” Okay, screw ‘starting to.’ Sokka is completely invested.

Zuko truly doesn’t seem to find it interesting. “I mean, yeah. It’s not like something monumental happened.”

“But it’s a cool story!” Sokka says, incredulous. “Isn’t there anything to gain from that?”

Zuko’s looking at Sokka strangely. “I mean, not really.”

“Not really?! Dude, don’t you ever want to reflect on your memories and think about the good old days?”

Frowning, Zuko shifts his attention off Sokka and on the turtleduck in his lap. “I don’t... remember many of those.”

Sokka ignores the part inside him that aches upon mention of the apparently miserable childhood Zuko had. “Gotta start working on making some happy memories then, huh?”

Zuko looks up, surprised. “Yeah, I.” He stops for a moment, pensive. “I guess so.”

“Good!” Sokka grins and scoots close enough to Zuko that their legs touch, then scoops up the turtleduck in his lap.

“What are you doing?” Zuko asks the double turtleduck-wielding Sokka, eyes wide. Sokka sets them down gently, makes sure the other turtleducks are safely out of the water, and smirks devilishly.

“This.” He wraps his arms tightly around Zuko’s waist and lunges into the shallow pond, water flying up around the two of them with a mighty splash.

Sokka lands on his back with an  _ oof  _ and finds himself staring up into Zuko’s perfect, shocked face. When he tries to move, he realizes that Zuko is splayed out on top of him, warm and solid, and his mind shorts the fuck out at the sensation of another body so close to him.

So naturally, he flips the two of them over so that Zuko’s the one immersed in water, Sokka staring down at him. Sokka’s pulse kicks when his eyes rake over Zuko’s face, taking in his wide eyes and the flush rising in his cheeks as he stares up at Sokka, lips slightly parted.

They stay frozen there for a second until the moment is broken by a loud quack. Flustered but doing his best to hide it, Sokka flops down next to Zuko, praying that the water will cool his face so he can finally look the Yokai Prince in the eye.

Zuko sits up, sopping wet, looking like a drowned polar bear dog. Clear water streams off his now-soaking robes and dripping hair as he glares at Sokka, still red-cheeked. “What the  _ fuck, _ Sokka?!”

This is simultaneously the worst and best idea Sokka has ever had.

Doing his best to squash down the urge to do  _ something _ to Zuko, Sokka clambers out of the pond and flops heavily down onto the grass, rolling onto his back and folding his arms comfortably behind his head.He smugly recalls Zuko’s deep blush and smirks. “That’s one happy memory!”

Then something grabs onto his ankle and drags him back into the pond screeching. He is dunked underwater, and before he shuts his eyes against the onslaught, catches a brief glimpse of a very gleeful-looking Zuko. Sokka resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a dog. “I deserved that,” he admits.

Zuko snorts, still not having moved from his spot close to Sokka. “You think?” The sun glints off his face and eyes, turning their rusty yellow lighter and almost the shade of gold the Agni-blessed supposedly possess. Nearly but not quite. (Though who is Sokka to judge? They’re still pretty as hell.)

For a time, they are comfortably silent, then Zuko speaks, and the words fit in his mouth like they’re unfamiliar. “This is a happy memory, though. Thank you.”

Their gazes meet, eyes cautious yet hopeful as they share a smile . “Truly? I’m glad I could help.”

“Here’s to making more?” Zuko asks rather than says, looking unsure.

His eyes crinkle as his smile stretches pleasantly wide, and Sokka nods enthusiastically. “Here’s to making more.”

“Hopefully with less water, though,” Zuko grumbles as he finally stands up and climbs out of the pond, looking ruefully down at his drenched self.

Sokka snickers as he belly flops onto land, uncaring of the wet squelch his clothes make. “A bit of swimming never hurt anybody.”

“Famous last words,” says Zuko, deadpan. “You realize I could drown you right now, right?”

Sokka gasps, holding a hand to his heart in mock outrage. “Murder me? You would never!”

“Unfortunately,” comes the response.

He waits two beats, then, satisfied that he won’t be held underwater and killed anytime soon, Sokka rolls onto his back and spreads out his long limbs, stretching as far as he can and soaking up the sunlight as he closes his eyes in bliss.

He feels a brief blast of warm wind but doesn’t think anything of it until Zuko asks, “Do you want me to dry you off?”

Sokka cracks open an eye to look in Zuko’s direction, then opens the other when he finds Zuko completely dry. “Wh- How??”

Zuko waves a hand, and flames surround Sokka for a quarter of a second before disappearing, leaving him bone dry. Then he holds his hand up and lets fire flicker between his fingers like a traveling scammer playing with his coins. Of course. He’s a firebender. Yellow eyes. Riiight.

“Uh. Thanks,” Sokka says, after he’s registered this fact.

Zuko gives a curt nod in response, then glances up at the sky and blanches. “I need to get going. I promised Uncle that-”

“It’s fine.” Sokka cuts him off. “You have other things to do, and I’m not gonna keep you from them. Go have lunch with your Uncle or whatever.” He smiles to show he means it. “I don’t mind at all. We can still make those memories, you know.”

Zuko looks surprised at Sokka’s words, but gives him a timid smile. “Okay. I’ll see you around then, I guess.” He disappears before Sokka can respond, but that’s okay. They’re still going to be meeting each other.

Sokka closes his eyes to take a nap, falling asleep to golden sunlight on his face and the gentle splashing and quacking of turtleducks. 

He dreams of flames surrounding him, warm when they should be scalding. But t hen he wakes up to the entire family of turtleducks sleeping on his stomach, and the dream is pushed to the back of his mind as he grins down at the snoring babies surrounding their mother.

* * *

Sokka starts frequenting the Jasmine Dragon. This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he met Zuko there. Absolutely nothing! They just have good tea.

Late spring rolls steadily around, and with it come the so-anticipated cherry blossoms.

Delicate pink sakura petals flutter gracefully to the newly green ground, alighting on clusters of fresh jade blades of grass. Sokka sits at a stained wood table outside the Jasmine Dragon, enjoying like so many others the brief heavenly display.

He is so entranced that he almost doesn’t notice as Zuko noiselessly slips into the chair opposite him and hands him a glass of light brown liquid accompanied by a straw. Sokka notices what look like jelly eggs drifting at the bottom of the glass, and the whole mixture sloshes appetizingly. His stomach grumbles.

“Hi to you too,” Sokka says as he examines the drink in front of him. “What’s this?”

Zuko shrugs. “Uncle told me to bring this to you while talking about risks. It’s a brand-new beverage he’s invented, apparently.”

Sokka squints at the bottom of the cup, where the dark brown orbs float suspiciously. “Are these... eggs of some kind? Frog eggs?”

“It’s edible,” says Zuko, which isn’t really a response.

Sokka brings the straw to his lips cautiously and sucks, his mouth filling with a sweet tea and something squishy.

Zuko has no such qualms and takes a sip of his own drink, then promptly spits it out to the side, revolted. “ _ What _ is that trying to sneak into my mouth?”

Sokka chews on his own mouthful, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’s not bad, to be honest. I’d like it more if I knew for sure that these aren’t frog eggs. They’re certainly chewy enough.”

Zuko’s grossed out look is turned on Sokka. “How do you know what kind of texture frog eggs have?”

Sokka swallows. “I don’t, but if you think about it-”

“I’d rather not.” Zuko groans, rubbing his temples. “I don’t want to think about frog eggs in my  _ mouth. _ I didn’t think they’d taste this bad.”

Jolting to face Zuko, Sokka stares at him in alarm. “Wait, these are actually frog eggs??”

“Uh, yeah.” Zuko looks up. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“ _ What _ ?” Sokka shrieks, horrified. He just ate  _ frog babies? _ “You said something about risks, but not about these actually having frog eggs in them! What if they hatch in my stomach and-” He stops blabbering abruptly when he sees Zuko’s lips twitch. “These aren’t actually frog eggs, are they.”

“No,” Zuko admits, smirking. “It’d be funny if they were, though. Frog eggs hatching in your stomach, really?”

“It’s a valid concern!” Then a horrible thought comes to mind. “Wait. If these aren’t frog eggs, what are they?”

Instead of responding, Zuko yells, “Uncle!”

Iroh appears after a few moments. “Yes, nephew?” His expression turns to one of pleasant surprise when he sees Sokka at the table as well. “Hello, Sokka.”

Sokka waves with a grin.

Zuko raises his eyebrow. “You two know each other?”

“Of course.” Iroh smiles. “I make it a point to know the names of all my regulars.”

“A regular?” asks Zuko. “Since when?”

“Since, uh,” Sokka tries to think of a reason that doesn’t make it sound like he’s stalking Zuko. “A little while ago. I haven’t been one for long.”

“Hm.” Zuko turns to Iroh. “By the way, what are these… balls?” He says the last word with clear distaste, which makes Iroh chuckle and Sokka snort.

“Oh!” Iroh beams. “Yes, my new drink! First, I cook balls of tapioca until they’re soft and tender. Then I put them in tea, where they sit like little pearl-sized snacks at the bottom of each cup! Add a little milk, and tada! A revolution in tea is born!”

“So these aren’t frog eggs?” Sokka double-checks.

“Frog eggs?” Iroh chortles. “Of course not. I doubt they would taste even as remotely as good as these.”

“Well, in that case,” says Sokka. “I think I’ve found my new favorite drink!”

Iroh’s smile grows even wider. “I’m very glad to hear that, young man. Would you like another one? On the house, of course.”

“That would be wonderful!” Sokka enthuses. “Thank you, Iroh.”

Iroh bows and whisks away as gracefully as one with a slight belly might whisk, leaving Sokka and Zuko alone at the table once more.

“So,” Sokka says. “Made any new happy memories?”

Zuko looks surprised at the question, and furrows his eyebrow. “One. I went back to the turtleduck pond. That was nice.”

Sokka grins, happy for his friend (friend? He hopes so). “Glad to hear it.”

The two lapse into easy conversation, only pausing briefly when Iroh comes back to place another one of his specialty drinks in front of Sokka, who accepts it with a grateful smile. Hours fly by, evening passing by as if time means nothing, as Sokka and Zuko talk about nothing and everything all at once.

Eventually, though, Sokka realizes he’ll have to leave - he has a meetup scheduled with Aang, Katara, and Toph. When he mentions this, Zuko nods, already rising.

“Okay. Have fun.”

Sokka watches Zuko leave, then thinks of an idea. Smile stretching over his face, he opens his mouth to call Zuko, then hesitates.  _ It’ll be better if it’s a surprise, _ he decides, then goes off to meet everyone else at their usual spot.

  
  


Only to return shortly afterwards with the entire group with him, all of them scouting out the top of the hill with varying degrees of wariness.

“Where are we?” Aang asks curiously, eyes roving over the modest shop and the flowering splendor surrounding it.

“The Jasmine Dragon,” Sokka and Toph say at the same time.

He squints at Toph. “You know about this place too?”

She nods. “The old man who runs this place gave me some good advice a while ago, along with some great tea. I swing by sometimes when I’m in the mood for either.”

“Cool.” Not seeing any tables big enough to fit their cadre outside, Sokka opens the door to the shop, and they’re greeted by two hostesses, who guide them amiably to a corner booth, under a carving of a fierce lion-turtle with piercing eyes and an elaborate fire symbol in the center of its forehead.

As soon as the entire group is seated, Iroh appears with his familiar warm smile. “Hello, new guests! Nice of you to drop by, Toph. Sokka, good to see you again so soon, and with new faces in tow! What can I get you all?”

Everyone orders, albeit with a bit of hesitation, and Iroh departs with his usual smile.

“This is a nice place,” Katara says, absorbing the large main room. She spots the dessert menu on the center of the table and picks it up, beginning to browse.

“Yeah,” says Toph. “The decorations are nice, aren’t they?”

“They are!” Aang agrees cheerily, deflating when he realizes that he’s fallen into Toph’s trap. “Darn,” he mutters with a sheepish smile amidst everyone’s laughter. “You’d think that I’d be used to the blind jokes by now.”

Sokka spots Zuko walking towards their table, focused on the tray between his hands, and bites back a grin, waiting until he’s placed the tray down on their table. He lets his grin come out of hiding as soon as Zuko starts passing out the cups of tea, not looking up from his hands.

“Hi Zuko,” he says when Zuko picks up his tray and turns around, still not having looked at anybody’s face. Zuko’s back straightens, and he turns his head.

“Sokka?” He turns around completely, tray forgotten at his side. “You’re back. And you brought… friends.”

“I sure did!” Sokka says proudly. “I wanted them to see your pretty face.”

Zuko flushes a barely noticeable pink just as Katara looks up from the menu to see who her brother’s talking to. Her eyes widen in shock then narrow as she swivels her full body towards Sokka with centuries of honed agility and strength, her tea floating in the space between them. He reads the unmistakable cold fury in her glare, knowing her thoughts exactly:  _ Every day, your stupidity reaches new heights. _

“You befriended  _ him _ ?” She all but snarls.

Sokka shrugs, knowing what she’s trying to get at. “Yeah. He’s nice.”

Katara flicks her eyes over to him for a second, dumbfounded. “Sokka, his eyes-” She breaks off and shakes her head. “Have you forgotten what the yokai have done to our mother?” One hand comes up to touch her necklace briefly out of pure habit.

Sokka stiffens, her words striking a nerve. “No. I haven’t.”

“Then why have you befriended the fucking Yokai Prince?” She glares harder at Zuko, who’s withdrawn into himself under her stare, blank and emotionless.

“Because he doesn’t act like the stuck-up, murderous, cold-hearted, douchebag barely-human person you think he is!” Sokka snaps. “Why are you so dead set on believing the rumors? We both know shit gets exaggerated.” He’s experienced this firsthand, now. Zuko had been portrayed as a heartless machine, following in his father’s footsteps. The only reason Sokka hadn’t run when he first saw Zuko had been because of the scar - heartless machine Zuko was supposed to be as cold and as smooth as ice, no marks visible on his skin.

Sokka knows that Katara still remembers the day of the yokai raid vividly, the crack in the earth that had split the village in two and still remains to this day. But he also knows that Zuko isn’t what everyone says he is, and wants Katara to figure it out for herself.

The tea turns to ice between Katara’s hands, then turns back to tea and splashes into her cup as she closes her eyes and takes a deep, shaky breath. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Sokka gestures at Zuko, still holding his tray, who’s moving his eyes between Sokka and his sister warily. “Apologize to him.”

Katara turns to Zuko, face beginning to soften. “Zuko, was it?” At his single nod, she continues. “I shouldn’t have believed those rumors so easily. I apologize.”

Zuko looks down. “It’s okay. What you’ve heard of my father is probably true, or even watered down, though. If you wanted to know.” He nods at Katara’s tea as if he hadn’t just dropped a verbal bombshell on the entire table. “Would you like me to heat that up for you again?”

She passes over her cup, shocked. Zuko doesn’t seem to notice, holding a flame under the teacup until it’s steaming again, letting off fragrant vapor. He hands Katara back her tea.

“Can I help you guys with anything else?” He asks, tucking the tray uncomfortably under his arm. When everyone shakes their heads, he nods. But before he can make his hasty escape, Sokka pats the seat next to him.

“You should sit with us,” he offers. “I wanted everyone to get to know you.”

Zuko’s gaze flits around the table uncertainly before coming to rest on Sokka. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Is his definitive, confident answer. 

“Come join us!” says Aang cheerily, easy to forgive. He smiles welcomingly at Zuko, Katara nodding in grudging agreement.

“We were brought here to meet you, so we might as well get to know you,” says Toph, fiddling with the piece of meteorite Sokka had given her a century back. She bends it into a smiley face.

Sokka grins winningly at Zuko, who sighs, puts his tray on a nearby table, and perches on the edge of the seat next to Sokka. He looks ready to run at a moment’s notice, so Sokka bumps his knee against Zuko’s as a reminder that he’s not alone.

It seems to work, and Zuko relaxes the tiniest bit as a result.

“So… going back to what you said earlier,” says Toph. “Did your father really murder hundreds of mortals at the Kolau Mountains?”

Zuko doesn’t take heed of her bluntness. “Yeah. The numbers are wrong, though. It’s probably among the thousands.”

Sokka hisses out a breath. “What for?”

“For all I know, for fun.” Zuko says miserably. “I don’t know the motives behind most of his actions.”

“Why not?” Katara asks, with furrowed brows and defensively crossed arms. She may have let Zuko sit, but it’s clear she isn’t ready to trust him.

“I spoke out against one of his highest-ranked generals during a war meeting,” mutters Zuko, uncomfortable with the attention. “Got challenged to an Agni Kai, and he burned my face for disrespecting him and for refusing to fight him. We don’t see each other much because of that.”

The silence that falls is stifling as everyone at the table stares, shocked, at Zuko, who looks down with a hard gaze, reliving memories that he’d much rather forget.

Rage burns through Sokka, the rare kind that rushes through his head and curls his fingers into fists. He wants to wrap Zuko in a tight hug and bash Ozai’s head in because  _ nobody _ deserves to go through that much pain at the hands of their fathers, let alone Zuko.

Sokka doesn’t want to believe what Zuko is saying, but from what little time he’s spent with the prince he knows in his gut that the other wouldn’t lie about something as personal as that. When he factors in the knowledge that the cruelty of Ozai knows no bounds, the reason behind Zuko’s scar starts sounding more and more plausible.

“Your father,” starts Aang in disbelief, “was the one who burned you?”

“Who else would it be?” Zuko says in a tight voice. “Would it be any better if it were my sister?”

Another silence falls over the booth as its occupants remember that the only firebenders in history are yokai royalty.

“Tui,” mutters Sokka, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what he looks like but I  _ really _ want to punch him in the face.”

Everyone at the table nods in agreement, which makes Zuko smile, even if it comes out fleeting and hollow.

“Not much I can do about him.” Zuko gives a deep sigh. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” says Toph, speaking for the first time in a while. “It’s not like you have much of a choice. Go with what he says and stay alive, or go against his wishes and get destroyed.”

A corner of Zuko’s mouth quirks up. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“You guess,” snorts Toph. “I’m right and you should say it.” She reaches over Sokka to punch Zuko’s shoulder, though, which he takes without complaint.

“We should probably switch to a better topic,” suggests Zuko. “How are you guys finding your drinks?”

Sokka can’t help his stifled laugh.

“What?” asks an exasperated Zuko, facing Sokka.

“No offense, Zuko, but your conversation starters suck. Leave them to me,” Sokka states bluntly, pointedly ignoring Zuko’s eye roll. He swings an arm around Zuko’s shoulders, reveling in the speeding of his heartbeat.

“You’re really not much better, Sokka,” interjects an unimpressed Katara.

Toph agrees. “She’s right.”

Sokka pouts at Aang, who shrugs. He huffs. “Fine, whatever. Insult your own brother.”

“Gladly,” smirks Toph.

Zuko stays quiet under Sokka’s arm as the other gets absolutely annihilated by his friends, but Sokka catches him cracking a few smirks. He decides it’s worth getting embarrassed if he can keep Zuko smiling small and radiant like that.

Zuko has to get up to help Iroh once rush hour hits, and he stands up silently. While he doesn’t sit down at their table for the remainder of the group’s time at the Jasmine Dragon, nobody’s cup ever empties.

When it’s time to leave, Sokka waves goodbye to Zuko and gets a small but genuine quirk of his lips back. He leaves the building with the knowledge that Zuko has met his friends and gets along with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the worst part of working on this fic was that only the benders + sokka and hakoda (fav dad perks) could be demigods. pain.
> 
> iroh’s dialogue about ‘a revolution in tea’ and zuko’s reaction + dialogue (‘what is that trying to sneak into my mouth’) to the boba are from the comics


	2. the world tried to burn all the mercy out of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka gets kidnapped by Toph.
> 
> Literally.
> 
> also, they go to the south pole, visit haru, teo, + the mechanist, and receive some bad news. not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the swt in this au is much like the swt in the comics - a mix of nwt-esque buildings and igloos, bc even though there’s no war, the yokai raids still set them back in terms of rebuilding by a considerable amount
> 
> chapter title was modified slightly; from ‘sunshine riptide’ by fall out boy

Sokka gets kidnapped by Toph.

Literally.

He’d been on his way to visit the Mechanist when the ground had suddenly rumbled and opened up, and the next thing he knows he’s in a musty, hollowed out underground cave with a bruised backside, unable to see jack shit.

“What the fuck!” he yells, scrambling to his feet. Reaching up to find the ceiling taller than him, Sokka opens his mouth again when a familiar raspy voice interrupts him.

“Sokka?”

Sokka blinks. “...Zuko?”

Fire flares to life, warmly illuminating a Zuko who looks just as surprised as Sokka. “Did you get abducted too?”

Sokka huffs out a laugh and gestures vaguely up to the ceiling. “Sure did. Do you know what Toph has in mind? I- whoa!” He cuts himself off as their little bubble starts moving, the abrupt motion sending him stumbling over to Zuko.

The fire goes out and strong hands come up to grip Sokka’s shoulders, softening his fall as the earth continues to grumble around them, taking a weaving pattern to… somewhere.

“Watch out, buddy,” comes Zuko’s low, raspy voice from right next to Sokka’s ear as his grip loosens.

In an attempt to hide the shiver that runs through him, Sokka sits down next to Zuko with a sigh, back against the wall. He regrets it immediately when moisture from the dirt starts seeping through his shirt, cool and damp against his skin. “Thanks, bud. I guess all we can do now is wait for Toph to dump us back in the world of the living.”

Now that Sokka’s safely seated, the fire comes back, dancing in Zuko’s hand and casting an orange light on their surroundings. “Yeah.” A sigh. “That’s going to be fun.”

Sokka halfheartedly barks out a laugh. “Sure is.” He swallows, then asks, “Do you mind if I use your shoulder as a pillow?”

Zuko shakes his head. “Go ahead.”

Sokka tilts his head onto Zuko’s shoulder, sighing contentedly even though he’s definitely used comfier pillows. He resists the urge to snuggle closer to the heat of Zuko’s neck. “Thanks.”

They fall into a companionable silence after that, both of them watching the fire flickering in Zuko’s hand.

Just after Sokka’s eyelids fall closed, the ceiling splits open and spills sunlight into their comfortable little bubble. The two of them get vaulted aboveground, where Sokka at least doesn’t have to breathe metallic air. He lands in a crouch reflexively.

“How was the ride, dunderheads?”

Sokka blinks his eyes open, regrets it immediately, and slams them closed again, spots floating in his vision. “Horrible.”

“Ridiculously bumpy,” agrees Zuko to his right, their shoulders still pressed together.

Toph laughs, then punches both of them in the shoulder. “Great! I wasn’t sure if you lily-livers would survive it, but apparently you did. Get on your feet, we’re going to Earth Rumble.”

Brightness forgotten, Sokka gasps and jumps to his feet as his eyes fly open in excitement. “Earth Rumble? I get to see The Boulder fight?” The sunlight is manageable at this point, so Sokka glances down to his right to find Zuko sitting cross-legged placidly.

Toph snorts. “Yeah. In a week. Today’s sign-up day.”

Sokka pouts. “You’re dragging us with you to  _ sign-ups?” _

“It could be fun,” says Zuko, rising to his feet.

“Sparky’s got it!” Toph declares. “Come on, let’s go.”

There are bright green banners and flags all over Gaoling advertising Earth Rumble, so it’s incredibly easy to reach the Earth Rumble sign-up table/tent combination. It’s a bit of a walk, but Sokka doesn’t mind; the sunlight is warm against his skin, and it’s easy to keep some friendly banter going as they wander through the bustling city. (Tui, Gaoling’s big enough to be considered a city. Sokka remembers when it was just a sorry cluster of lean-tos.)

Two heavyset men are manning the station, looking bored out of their minds. As the three of them get closer, they perk up.

“Hey, boys!” Hunk One calls. “You two look good at combat. Interested in signing up for Earth Rumble, the biggest and most prestigious competition around?”

Toph tilts her head. “What, I’m not allowed to sign up?”

Hunk Two clears his throat awkwardly. “I don’t think you would want to sign up, miss. It can get brutal at times.”

“So? I’m an earthbender.” An unimpressed Toph makes a circling gesture with both hands, and both hunks sink up to their knees in stone.

Both of them gasp, matching almost-comical looks of shocked reverence on both their faces.

“An earthbender,” Hunk One breathes, staring up at Toph.

“I just said that. Can I sign up or not?” Toph raises an eyebrow, blank eyes staring straight ahead.

“We’d be honored!” Hunk Two exclaims, eyes shining brightly and seemingly forgetting the stone encasing his legs.

Hunk One twists his mouth to the side. “No offense, ma’am, but wouldn’t that be an unfair advantage, with your earthbending and all?”

Swiveling, Hunk Two glares at Hunk One. “You’re going to question a  _ demigod?” _

Hunk One just shrugs apologetically. “I mean, it’s a fair question.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” says Toph, flicking a wrist. The stone solidifies again under the feet of the hunks, who scramble to find their balance. “I’m blind. That should level the playing field.”

Sokka stops paying attention to their conversation in favor of leaning over to whisper something in Zuko’s ear conspiratorially. Zuko gives Sokka a tiny, diabolical smile and nods just as Toph finishes terrorizing the two hunks.

When Toph turns around to leave, Zuko and Sokka linger behind for half a second.

An almost dastardly smirk on his face, Zuko leans forward and swipes his hand parallel to the ground, letting ribbons of fire flicker through his fingers. (Sokka definitely doesn’t short-circuit at that smirk. Nope. Definitely not.)

Then he and Sokka turn around as well, filing in after Toph and leaving two flabbergasted hunks behind them. Toph’s waiting for them, hands on her hips.

“What’d you do? Their hearts are beating out of their chests,” asks Toph, brow slightly furrowed.

“Did a bit of firebending.” Zuko smirks again, that smug side of him making another appearance. Sokka is unable to take his eyes away.

Toph whoops and punches him in the shoulder. “Nice, Sparky! That’s a part of you I’ve never seen before. I like it.”

Zuko shakes his head, smiling down at the ground. “Sokka was the one who suggested it. I just did what he told me to do.”

“Then good going to both of you.”

“Why, thank you, Toph!” Sokka exclaims, sidling over to her and flinging his arm over her shoulders. “My genius is unbelievable, isn’t it?”

Instead of responding, Toph raises a hand sharply, and a rock bonks Sokka in the chest.

“Ow!” he protests, letting go of Toph and stumbling backwards exaggeratedly. He bumps into Zuko, who wraps an arm around Sokka’s waist momentarily to stop his momentum. “Toph!” He feels Zuko’s exhaled laugh, warm against the back of his neck, and shivers run down his spine like an especially pleasant kind of electricity.

Toph cackles at Sokka. “Earth Rumble is in exactly a week. I better see you two dunderheads right here.” The ground rumbles and she’s gone, a displaced pebble the only thing left in her wake.

“I guess we have to come back in a week, then,” says Zuko with a sigh. His chest is still pressed to Sokka’s back, though he’s taken his arm back. Fleetingly, Sokka thinks that he misses the comforting weight.

Humming distractedly in agreement, Sokka turns his head to pout at Zuko. “Zuko, my genius is unbelievable, right?”

Zuko laughs, sounding a bit startled. “You’re still stuck on that?” When Sokka nods, still pouting, he can see the corners of Zuko’s eyes crinkle up. “Of course your genius is unbelievable. You’re pretty smart, Sokka.” He smiles up at Sokka, and his eyes are brighter than ever.

Sokka grins back helplessly, feeling himself fall even more for the firebender who is genuinely good despite all the shitstorms that have been thrown at him. (In the back of his mind, Sokka thinks he might cry from an overload of emotions if he thinks too much about Zuko.)

“Thanks, Zuko,” is all Sokka can piece together, feeling flustered and warm purely because of Zuko’s simple compliment.

Zuko dips his head in response, and the two of them stand there for a beat longer, brown-green leaves fluttering to a stop at their feet. Eventually Zuko says, a bit awkwardly, “See you next week?”

Sokka unwillingly takes a step away, nodding. “Next week.”

Zuko gives Sokka a tiny, brilliant smile and waves. “See you then.”

Sokka waves back, then turns around to trudge towards the nearest subway with the sound of Zuko’s carefree laugh the only thing on his mind.

  
  


After a week, Sokka goes back to Gaoling. He notes with no small amount of relief that none of them have lost track of time, finding Toph and Zuko waiting for him right outside where Toph had told them the Earth Rumble arena is located.

Or rather on top of it, Sokka realizes as Toph brings them all below the ground and into a massive, hollowed-out arena.

The amphitheater-type stadium is already packed with people and heating up quick. It’s only due to an incredible stroke of luck that Sokka and Zuko manage to find two empty seats next to each other. As soon as they sit down, the lights go down, and for a second glowing crystals are the only source of light.

Sokka crosses his legs, wondering why they put so much effort into making an underground arena when they could have just built one aboveground.

Then a spotlight shines on a sturdy man with long black hair, who announces himself as Xin Fu, the host. (Oh. That’s why.) (Sokka approves of the dramatic lighting.) Apparently sensing the impatience in the arena, Xin Fu introduces the first two fighters. Sokka cheers, leaning forward in his seat and settling in for a riveting tournament. All too soon, the host is announcing the final pair of fighters.

“First, we have a returning combatant, able to fight with any weapon you hand him,” Xin Fu booms, pointing to the right. “The Boulder! He will be fighting with nunchucks tonight.”

An impressively muscled man appears in the spotlights, standing tall and proud, spinning a pair of gleaming nunchucks. Sokka screams, absolutely delighted at the sight of his second-favorite fighter.

Xin Fu allows for a few seconds of cheering, then sweeps his arm to the left, spotlights not far behind. “And a returning favorite: The Blind Bandit!”

Toph looks comically tiny across from The Boulder, but Sokka cheers for her as loud as he can as Xin Fu continues speaking.

“The Blind Bandit, as her name suggests, is blind. However!” Xin Fu pauses for a moment, letting tension build up. “The Bandit is also a demigod. Her earthbending will be an advantage that not even sighted people have. Prepare, everyone, for the showdown of your lives! Ready…  _ fight!” _

Whooping delightedly, Sokka leans forward on the bench.

“I can see why so many people come to these,” Zuko comments, knee pressing against Sokka’s.

“Yeah,” says Sokka animatedly, turning to look at Zuko for a moment before turning back and cheering when Toph dodges each of The Boulder’s attacks, sending a small chunk of rock at him in retaliation. (She’s definitely holding back. Sokka’s had  _ way _ worse thrown at him.) He turns back to Zuko to add, “It’s cool as fuck! I never thought watching someone fight someone else could be this exhilarating.”

Zuko leans back, crossing his arms and stretching his (longlonglong) legs in front of him. “I think it’s more interesting with some bending thrown in the mix.”

“I mean, duh.” Sokka glances down at the central platform, where Toph and the Boulder are playing some kind of whack-a-mole. Toph keeps disappearing into the ground, leaving The Boulder to lunge towards where she had been just seconds before. When she inevitably pops back up further away to goad him, he snarls in frustration. Toph disappears below the ground again, The Boulder attacks too late, and the cycle begins anew, to the delight of the crowd. “Everything’s more interesting with bending.”

Zuko frowns at that, glancing over at Sokka for a second. “You’re plenty interesting, you know.”

Sokka raises a single shoulder. He hadn’t thought his bitterness had been concealed that badly, but Zuko is surprisingly perceptive sometimes. “I’d be more interesting if I were a bender. I mean, what’s a demigod without the ability to bend?”  _ Absolutely nothing, _ his mind hisses. He tries his best to ignore it.

“Maybe you would be.” Zuko turns his body to look at Sokka this time. “But Sokka-” His hands shoot out to catch Sokka’s in his own, just as warm as Sokka remembers them. Sokka looks down at their joined hands with widened eyes, not prepared to look up yet with his heart picking up pace like it is. “I meant what I said, last week. You’re smart, Sokka; maybe even the smartest person I know. Not to mention an outstanding fighter.” Zuko squeezes Sokka’s fingers lightly. “And I don’t say that easily. My sister is… incredible, in more ways than one, but I think you two would be evenly matched if you were ever pitted against each other.”

Sokka raises a doubtful eyebrow at that, gaze flicking up. His eyes meet Zuko’s, and the sounds of the crowd fade away. As cliche as it is, all Sokka can do is focus on the warmth of Zuko’s hands and eyes as his heart skips a beat. (The ground could fall away, and he doesn’t think he’d notice.)

“You’re enough, Sokka,” says Zuko, everything about him heart-stoppingly, achingly sincere. “You always have been and always will be. You don’t need to be a bender to prove it; you’ve proven yourself time and time again, and anybody who doesn’t see that is an idiot.”

Sokka feels himself melt. The expression on his face has to be overly sappy and much too obvious, but he can’t bring himself to care. For once, he finds himself really and truly speechless, unable to come up with a witty comeback. “Thank you,” Sokka manages, hoping his face tells Zuko the things he can’t find in himself to voice just yet.

He thinks Zuko gets it, if the way his expression softens is any indication. He squeezes Sokka’s hands one more time before letting them go slowly, and with those points of contact gone the roar of the crowd filters back into Sokka’s ears.

“I just told you the truth, Sokka.” Zuko smiles gently, then reaches out to turn Sokka’s head towards the center of the area with his fingertips. “Also, I think Toph just won the tournament. Sorry for distracting you.”

“Good for her,” Sokka mumbles after sending a distracted look towards the platform, finding The Boulder in a painful-looking split. He focuses on Zuko again as the crowd around them collectively gives a sympathetic  _ oooh. _ “And don’t apologize for what you said. I think I needed to hear it.”

“Yeah?” Zuko asks, looking hopeful. Sokka vaguely registers Xin Fu speaking again, voice shot through with surprise.

The crowd roars in approval as Toph hoists the Earth Rumble champion belt above her head, chin tilted up defiantly.

“Yeah,” confirms Sokka with a soft smile, Earth Rumble completely forgotten as he gazes at the man in front of him.

When Zuko smiles back just as softly, it sounds like the crowd is cheering just for them.

* * *

Seasons pass, and eventually Sokka finds himself back in Ba Sing Se. He’s visited Hakoda, gone to the Jasmine Dragon more times than he can count, touched up on his swordsmanship, and all he has left to do now is try boomerang tricks before he goes to the South Pole to repeat the cycle again.

Cross-legged on a grassy patch, Sokka has just started sharpening his boomerang when Katara walks up to him and says simply, “I don’t trust Zuko.” Her usual expression has been replaced by fierce determination.

Sokka blinks at her, his whetstone stopping and a breeze blowing the hair out of his eyes. “O… kay? I figured, but why-”

Katara cuts off his question. “I’m telling you this because I need to be around him more in order to find him trustworthy, but I don’t want to hang out with him by myself. What do you think about going to the South Pole with him and Aang?”

“That.” Sokka thinks for a second. “That sounds fun, actually. When are we doing this?”

A smile finally appears on Katara’s face. “You’re the plan guy,” she says.

Sokka grins like he always does when she calls him that. “I am! How does… I dunno, in five years sound? I can make a few schedules for us.”

Katara matches his grin and nods. “Meet you two at home in five years, then.”

So here Sokka is, Zuko at his side and snow under his feet, watching Katara - just Katara - wave as she makes her way closer to them on a wave of ice.

“Where’s Aang?” he calls as soon as she’s within earshot. The air is almost painfully freezing whenever he breathes in, but he delights in the scent of ice and salt. He’s home.

Katara shakes her head, stopping in front of the pair as the ice splashes to the ground behind her. “He had some other things to do, but he might pop over some time soon.” Lukewarm, she nods at Zuko, who nods back just as blandly. “Are you guys ready to meet Dad?”

Sokka looks over at Zuko to confirm, but realizes he’s wearing red  _ silk _ (Tui and La, how did that escape Sokka?) and literally exhaling fire in an attempt to stay warm. “...We should probably get Zuko some warm clothes first. He can take mine, I don’t mind.”

“Oh. Right.” Katara looks a bit sheepish as she turns to Zuko. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” responds Zuko, exhaling again, and wow- hot. In more ways than one.

Katara bends them closer to the village. While she’s swarmed with all the kids, Sokka drags Zuko into his family’s house.

Stepping into it, there’s an immediate difference in temperature, and Zuko exhales fire one more time before his shivers start slowing down. Regardless, Sokka starts piling clothes into Zuko’s arms. “If you don’t change into these you  _ will _ freeze to death, even with your dragon breath thingy. I don’t want that to happen to you, so please change out of your outfit.”

Zuko blinks owlishly, first at Sokka and then at the incredibly large pile of clothes in his arms. “It’s fine, I can-”

_ “Fine?” _ Sokka shrieks. “Zuko, you’re in the South Pole! You can’t stay in  _ that!” _ He flails his arms towards Zuko’s outfit.

“Why not?”

Sokka takes in the outfit - a short-sleeved red yukata-esque set of clothes with a gold and dark red trim, and a matching dark red sleeveless knee length robe on top of that. A gold sash matches the hems of the robe and ties the entire thing together, and Zuko really does look good in the outfit, but-

“You will freeze!” Sokka grabs Zuko’s shoulders and looks up into his face, trying to get his  _ idiot _ of a crush to  _ accept the damned clothes already. _

Zuko opens his mouth to speak, but Sokka cuts him off again.

“It is  _ not _ fine, Zuko, I want you alive! Change! Please!”

Zuko wilts. “Okay. Fine.”

“Good!” Sokka throws his hands up and turns around when he sees Zuko reaching for his sash.  _ Thank Tui for light blushes not being visible on my face, _ he thinks as he hears the rustling of clothes behind him.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much clothing?” asks Zuko.

Sokka rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Yes, I’m sure. You might even be cold.” A second passes, and he asks, “Can I turn around now?”

“Yeah.”

Spinning around, Sokka’s eyes fall on Zuko, and all he can do for a moment is stare. Had he said that red was Zuko’s color? He takes that back. Tui and  _ La _ does blue look good on the firebender.

“Do I really look that bad?” Zuko’s face is amused and a bit self-conscious, and Sokka’s quick to correct him.

“No, you look… really good, actually.” He fixes his face into his normal grin, then, and double checks that everything is actually on correctly. He makes a few miniscule changes (excuses to brush against Zuko), then declaring Zuko officially South Pole-ready, offers the other his arm.

Zuko takes it with a tiny smile, and they brave the cold once again to find Katara.

She’s standing with Hakoda, and Sokka is about to run towards them when Zuko freezes next to him. The smile on Sokka’s face collapses into an expression of concern, and he turns towards Zuko. (Sokka can’t help but notice how endearing Zuko looks with his nose and cheeks are stained pink.)

“You okay?” he asks in a low voice, standing in front of Zuko, whose eyes are fixed on the father-daughter pair.

Zuko blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, though his unburned eye is still a bit too wide for him to pass as fine to Sokka. He walks forward before Sokka can express his doubt or concern, and Sokka has no choice but to follow, snow crunching under his boots. He'd usually be in his dad’s arms by now, but he can’t bring himself to leave Zuko’s side just yet.

Katara spots them first and waves, though judging from the expression on her face she’d been talking to Hakoda about something unpleasant. Probably Zuko and the fact that he’s the son of the person who ordered multiple raids on the Southern Water Tribe centuries ago.

Hakoda turns from where he’d been facing Katara, gaze passing over Zuko in favor of landing on his son. A grin appears on his previously pensive face, but it gets kicked down a notch when he realizes that Sokka isn’t running to him like he usually does. Correctly assuming that it’s because of the person next to him, his eyes slide over to Zuko and widen in alarm for a quarter of a second before his Chief Face slams into place - polite but calculating. Katara steps forward to his side.

Sokka and Zuko reach the other two, and Zuko immediately lowers himself into a bow. Sokka inhales through his nose and bumps Zuko’s hip with his own, tossing his head in a way that he hopes tells Zuko to  _ get out of that bow. _

Zuko does, head tilted down in a way that would probably be respectful if he weren’t so tense. When Hakoda clears his throat, he jolts like electricity is being shot through him, yellow eyes snapping up to meet Hakoda’s. They’re a bit wide, as if he expects Hakoda to do something unspeakably horrible to him.

Nobody speaks until Hakoda does, voice pleasant enough. There’s an undercurrent of bitterness as he says, “Yokai Prince Zuko.”

Zuko dips into another bow, then seems to remember Sokka’s reaction and bobs back up, his gaze on Hakoda the only steady thing about him. “Chief Hakoda, sir. It’s wonderful to meet you.” His back is as straight and stiff as a rod, but he seems to take up less space than he always does.

“I wish I could say the same about you,” says Hakoda, still sizing Zuko up. “But given that I always thought I’d see you burning this place to the ground…”

Zuko bows  _ again, _ deeper this time. “I wasn’t aware that I was seen as such a monster. I sincerely apologize for whatever actions I may have made that led you to believe that idea would become reality.”

Only a single quirk of Hakoda’s eyebrow betrays his surprise, and Sokka can see him reevaluating his thoughts on Zuko. When he speaks again, the bitterness is mostly gone. “I believe it was mostly your father’s legacy.”

Zuko straightens with a grimace. “I’m afraid it precedes him.”

“It does,” Hakoda agrees with a heavy sigh. Apparently deeming Zuko a decent person, he raises a hand to clap Zuko on the shoulder.

Sokka notices Zuko’s flinch in response to the shoulder clap along with the general anxiousness around Hakoda, but doesn’t say anything about it until back in their shared room, hours later. (Zuko hadn’t looked too fussed about the idea of the two of them sharing a room when Sokka had brought it up on a whim - maybe even pleasantly surprised. That expression on his face had been the only thing on Sokka’s mind when he’d lugged the components of his bed to Zuko’s room and set it up.)

Zuko looks startled and a bit like a cornered animal when Sokka brings up his reaction to Hakoda.

“Oh. That- that’s nothing. It’s fine.”

“I think,” says Sokka mildly, elbows on his knees and chin on his hands, “that it’s not nothing. It looked like you thought Dad was going to hurt you.” He holds up a hand when it looks like Zuko’s about to protest, holding his gaze steadily. “You don’t have to tell me the reasons behind your reactions, and I don’t expect you to. I just want you to know that Dad would never,  _ ever _ hurt you. I mean, unless you like, attack the village or something.” Too late, Sokka remembers that yokai killed his mother and it’s the entire reason Hakoda was distant in the first place.

Judging by the look on Zuko’s face, he’s remembering that too. Sokka winces, straightening up to grip his hands together.

“That… was a bad example. What I meant to say was he would never hurt you, um, intentionally at least, and that as long as we stick together and you show him that you’re willing to help this village with our chores, like making meals and mending clothes and weapons and-”

“Sokka!” bursts Zuko, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine. I know he’s not going to hurt me - he raised  _ you, _ why would he? - it’s just that I don’t. I don’t have very good experiences with fathers in general.”

Oh. Things about Zuko’s childhood are gradually making more sense.

“I want your father to like me,” says Zuko quietly, face earnest. “I want- I want happy memories with one.”

“Then we can start making them tomorrow,” says Sokka with a tiny smile that he hopes is comforting. “Get some sleep, yeah? You’ll need it for whatever the hell we’re going to do.”

  
  


‘Whatever the hell we’re going to do’ winds up being deboning a bunch of fish to prepare for dinner.

Zuko stares at the fish and knife in front of him as if they’ve personally offended his honor. Amused, Sokka watches for a second before caving and walking Zuko through the steps.

“Never prepared a fish before, Your Princeliness?” Sokka asks with a friendly smile, still standing close to Zuko.

Zuko scowls down at his mangled fish, poking it with his knife. “No. We had cooks.”

Sokka smoothly fixes Zuko’s handhold, then goes back to his spot at the counter. “Well, we don’t have any cooks down south, which means we learn how to debone fish as soon as we’re old enough to hold a knife. You might even start to like having something to occupy your hands.”

Zuko cuts into his fish like he’s about to perform surgery on it. He also has his nose scrunched up in concentration, which Sokka finds adorable beyond words. “It’s easier to learn things at a young age.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t learn when you’re older,” Sokka counters, pointing his knife towards Zuko with a raised eyebrow and an expectant look on his face. A bit of fish drops onto the counter.

Having no comebacks, Zuko frowns deeper at the counter, nose scrunching up more as his lips turn down. Sokka turns back to his fish to hide his smile at how damn cute it is, and a comfortable silence fills the room as they steadily work through the fish.

  
  


At dinner, Sokka sits in between his dad and Zuko. Zuko’s on edge during the entirety of it, obviously not liking the atmosphere, even if it is friendly. Sokka tries his best to monopolize Zuko’s attention, but he still retires early with a quiet farewell and a tiny bow right after covering Sokka’s hand with his own and sending him a strained but grateful smile.

Hakoda’s low voice distracts Sokka from where he’d been watching Zuko leave the room. “Love can be found in unexpected places, eh?”

Sokka startles. “What? Oh,” he snorts. “We’re not in love.”

Hakoda raises an eyebrow at Sokka, looking amused. “Are you sure?”

Sokka nods as if it’s obvious. “Not yet, anyways.”

Laughing, Hakoda claps Sokka on the back. “I was getting a bit suspicious. You two sure act like you’re in love.”

“He does?” Sokka perks up. He’d been well aware of how he acted, but Zuko hadn’t really… responded to his advances. He’d simply assumed that Zuko didn’t feel the same way back.

Hakoda nods, going back to his meal. “That boy doesn’t show many positive emotions, but whenever he does it’s mostly around you.”

Sokka makes a face. “That doesn’t mean much. It’s probably just because he thinks we’re friends.”

Hakoda raises an eyebrow, swallowing his food before speaking. “Do friends who wish to remain friends sneak glances at each other and blush when they’re caught? Do they flirt with each other continuously? Do they sleep in the same room even though one of them has a perfectly okay room that’s actually his?” He has a point there, but Sokka doesn’t have to admit that. He opens his mouth to argue his perfectly valid (and totally, completely, 100% platonic) reasons for why he chose to sleep in the same room as Zuko, but Hakoda keeps going. “I suspect he’s holding back his emotions and trying not to act on them.”

That gives Sokka something else to focus on. He frowns. “But… why?”

Hakoda hums. “There could be many reasons why, but I think it may have to do with his childhood.” His face turns more serious. “I’ve noticed that he doesn’t seem to be very comfortable around me, which means he either has a problem with authority figures or me. Or both.”

“He likes you,” says Sokka, wanting to reassure his dad. “You’re fine.”

Hakoda smiles a bit at that, reaching out to ruffle Sokka’s hair. “That’s good to hear. Either way, your affection isn’t so one-sided; I just don’t think Zuko expresses his as vocally as yours. Some people can have trouble expressing affection, depending on their upbringings.”

Sokka nods slowly. “That… makes sense, actually. Thanks, Dad. I’m gonna go back now.”

Hakoda smiles warmly at Sokka. “No problem, son. Just make sure that you’re both on the same page, alright?”

Sokka nods and gives his dad a hug. “I will. Thanks again!”

Zuko’s fast asleep back in their room, so Sokka flops down in his own mound of furs and closes his eyes. He falls asleep to the soft, repetitive sound of Zuko’s breathing.

The rest of their time at the South Pole is relatively uneventful, and Sokka gets to see his sister and Zuko bonding, which is amazing. (Somewhat less amazing is the way they bonded. Sokka hadn’t thought that he’d acted like a bumbling fool in front of the two of them so many times, but apparently he had. He’s never going to regain a sense of dignity.)

Zuko also manages to get over the initial roadblock of Hakoda being a dad. He’s still not completely comfortable but he’s able to hold a conversation without using the word ‘sir’ or bowing, so Sokka counts it as a win.

Zuko leaves the South Pole eventually, albeit with one more outfit in his wardrobe than he’d bargained for. (Sokka had insisted Zuko keep his borrowed clothes, “for in case you come visit again!”)

Sokka walks Zuko down to the docks and watches him get on the boat after a tight hug. As soon as Zuko’s on deck, Sokka blows a kiss and basks in Zuko’s already-pink face turning even more pink. Still flushed, Zuko hesitantly touches his fingers to his lips and sends his own kiss to Sokka.

Gasping loud enough that the few people on the dock give him sideways glances (which turn amused as soon as they take in the situation), Sokka pretends to catch the kiss and holds it to his heart, beaming all the while.

Zuko’s head ducks, and though he’s already a whale’s length away, Sokka can see the bashful smile that’s bound to be on Zuko’s lips in his mind’s eye as Zuko looks back up and waves a gloved hand. Sokka waves back, still overjoyed, and watches as the ship disappears over the horizon.

He walks back to the village with a smitten smile on his face, heart still fluttering from Zuko’s tentative kiss.

* * *

Sokka doesn’t expect to see Zuko a week after he returns to the Earth Kingdom. He  _ definitely _ doesn’t expect to see a slightly wild-eyed Zuko come crashing through the woods searching for him.

“Oh, thank Agni,” breathes Zuko when he sees Sokka.

“Zuko?” Sokka stands up from where he’d been crouching, prey be damned. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He takes in Zuko’s outfit. “Why are you in armor?”

Zuko looks very good in armor. He’s wearing high-collared pauldrons that make his shoulders seem incredibly broad, along with a black tunic that’s cinched at the waist with a gold belt. His entire outfit is predominantly black with gold and scarlet detailing, and  _ Tui’s right fin _ those are  _ definitely _ his colors.

“Long story,” says Zuko, still panting a bit. “Let’s go to the pond.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s pulling Sokka with him, and before he knows it they’re at the pond.

Zuko turns to Sokka. “Do you know where the others are? I need to talk to them.”

“I can get them to come here, yeah,” replies Sokka. “It might take a bit, though. Take a seat. You look like you need it.”

Zuko all but falls to the ground, hand coming up to his hair. He hesitates before taking out his topknot, but does it regardless, shaking out his hair so it falls in front of his face.

Sokka watches him uneasily before taking out the bison whistle Aang had given him. He blows on that before stomping four times on the ground, praying Toph will be able to feel it.

Apparently she does, because it only takes a few minutes for everyone to arrive. Katara and Aang arrive together on top of Appa just as Toph rumbles to a stop and jumps off a mound of dirt nearby. The turtleducks quack in alarm and disappear into the nearby bushes.

Katara leaps off Appa as soon as he lands, rushing to Sokka’s side. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sokka says with a concerned glance at Zuko, who’s still seated on the ground and staring listlessly at his hairpiece as he turns it over in his hands. “Zuko? Care to explain?”

Zuko looks up, eyes hollow. “The Yokai Lord is planning on taking over the world, starting in three weeks.”

“How do you know?” asks Toph. “You’re not lying, but-”

“I was invited to the war meeting,” interrupts Zuko, springing up and pacing as he recounts the events. “And I’m almost never invited to those, so I always attend the ones I’m invited to in order to keep a good image. Apparently Fa- Ozai’s been planning the invasion for several months, now, and I was only invited to the meeting where they went over everything.” He looks up, frantic. “And there was so much to go over. The meeting went on for hours. They have everything planned out, down to the last step. It’s horrible.”

“Did they plan on anybody stopping them?” Sokka asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Zuko looks at him like Sokka’s been banging his head against walls in his free time. “It’s an  _ invasion _ . Of course they’re expecting resistance.”

“He means benders,” says Katara, eyes brightening. “If Ozai hasn’t-”

Sokka clears his throat, looking at Katara as if to say,  _ My idea, remember? _ She rolls her eyes but lets him take over.

“If Ozai hasn’t planned on any benders stopping him, we might have an advantage.” Sokka looks at Zuko and repeats his question. “Have they planned for what happens when there are benders stopping them?”

Zuko frowns, then shakes his head slowly. “Not that I remember. They’re just planning on mowing down anybody and everybody who stands in their way.”

“With what?” Toph asks. “Mortals?”

Zuko shakes his head. “He’s the Yokai Lord, remember? He has an almost infinite number of monsters at his disposal.”

“The only resistance they’re expecting to encounter are mortals,” Sokka realizes, appalled. “Not even armies, since it’ll be a surprise attack.”

“It’ll be a massacre,” a horrified Aang says.

“Does he not have a heart?” Katara sounds disgusted.

“No.” Zuko reaches up slowly to touch the bottom of his scar as if he’s realizing something. “No, he doesn’t.”

“We’re stopping him,” Aang declares, face set in a way Sokka’s never seen before.

“It’ll be hard,” Zuko says. “The only advantage we have is him not knowing we’re planning on stopping him.”

“I know. I’m not letting him murder innocent people.”

“I’m in,” Katara says immediately.

“Me as well.” Zuko’s voice is determined. “I can’t stand back and watch him hurt any more people.”

“Count me in.” Sokka speaks up.

Katara looks at him worriedly. “Are you sure? You can’t-”

“I’m sure. Count me in,” Sokka repeats stubbornly. He won’t say it, but he wants Ozai to pay for what he’s done to Zuko. The desire for revenge outweighs the risks of not being able to bend.

Everyone looks at Toph, who’s leaning against a piece of stone (which had most definitely not been there before). She looks up with a raised eyebrow. “Of course I’m joining you knuckleheads. I’m not going to pass up a chance to bash some yokai heads, and none of you are dying on me.”

Aang grins. “Good.”

Sokka turns to Zuko. “Where are they planning on coming from the underworld? We’ll have to meet them there in order to minimize the damage done to mortals.”

“Near some place called Senlin Village,” replies Zuko, eyes narrowed as he remembers the details. “They’re planning on attacking at sunrise.”

“Why sunrise?”

“Less people awake when compared to sunset,” Zuko says. “Also, firebenders draw their power from the sun, so it’ll be easier for Ozai and Azula to lead without seeming weak.”

“We should probably evacuate the villagers,” Toph points out. “Just in case.”

The five of them continue to work out a plan for the day of the invasion, heads bowed together as they talk in low voices.

After the plan has been mostly fleshed out, they call a break and agree to regroup after a day. Toph disappears into the ground, and Aang and Katara fly off somewhere, which leaves Zuko and Sokka alone.

“How are you holding up?” Sokka asks as he walks over to Zuko, reaching out a hand to touch Zuko’s shoulder briefly.

Zuko looks up from where he’d been staring at the ground, giving Sokka a weak smile. “I’ve been better.”

Sokka sits down next to Zuko, holding out an arm in a silent question. Zuko ducks under it, giving Sokka a grateful smile and curling up slightly as he leans into the other’s body.

“Thanks,” Zuko says softly. “I needed that.” Sokka squeezes Zuko closer in response, and the two of them stay in that position silently until the hour’s up.

Aang and Katara fly in on Appa’s back again, but this time they’re holding snacks.

“Seal jerky!” Sokka crows as Katara tosses three small bags at him. Spotting bags of fire flakes and remembering a conversation he’d had with Zuko about them, he carefully lifts his arm from Zuko’s shoulders to grab the fire flakes and puts them in Zuko’s lap.

Zuko looks at Sokka, surprised. “You remembered?”

Sokka shrugs, mouth half-full of seal jerky already. “Why wouldn’t I?”

That makes Zuko flush for some reason, and Sokka watches partly in awe as pink spreads over his face. His observation of Zuko is interrupted by Katara.

“Where’s Toph?”

Toph announces her presence with a rumbling of earth, the ground splitting open. “Right here, Sugar Queen.”

“Great, we’re all here. Time to get to work,” says Aang cheerfully. “Sokka?”

“On it. We need weapons, allies, and armor.” Sokka’s had this list in his brain since Zuko had started talking about the invasion. “Do you guys know where to get any of those? I can ask The Mechanist and the others to help us with weapons, but I don’t want any of the mortals fighting hand to hand.”

“They have bombs,” Toph says, an impressive amount of dango stuck in her mouth. “If you can figure out a way for them to carry a shit ton of bombs while airbending, they’ll be a huge help.”

Sokka snorts. “Easy. I’ll draw up plans later, and deliver them to the Mechanist. Aang should probably come with me.”

“Neat.” Aang smiles, rubbing his hands together. “We’ll go as soon as possible.”

The next month passes slower than Sokka’s used to. For one, he doesn’t sleep for more than half a day at a time, and he’s also actually…  _ doing _ things every day. It’s kind of nice. He could get used to this.

* * *

Sokka had just picked an apple off a branch when he hears the murmur of familiar voices near him. Curious, he sneaks closer and peeks out from behind a tree.

He sees Zuko and Aang standing next to each other, and his feet are moving forwards before he can register it. He crunches on his apple obnoxiously as he sits down on a warm rock, seeing Zuko and Aang turn out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

He doesn’t need to look to know that Zuko’s scowling at him.  _ All sparks, no bite, _ Sokka thinks almost fondly.

Aang perks up almost immediately. “Yeah!”

Zuko rolls his eyes with a sigh, grudgingly agreeing. “Fine.” He turns back to Aang without any further complaint. “Again,” he commands. (Sokka can especially see his royal upbringing when he uses that voice or straightens his spine. It suits Zuko well.)

Cross-legged on the ground, Sokka watches Zuko and Aang firebend and loses all track of time, losing himself in the almost dance-like motions of their katas and multicolored flame.

Which, hey, since when were they rainbow?

Aang looks over and beams. He jumps towards Sokka with a gust of air and lands softly on the ground in a sitting position. “We met the firebending masters!”

“The… what?” Sokka doesn’t know everything by any means, but he knows quite a fair bit of information. He’s never heard of the firebending masters. “Masters? There are multiple?”

“There are two dragons.” Zuko finally joins the conversation, sitting down next to Sokka. “The last ones.” His posture droops. “My family killed the rest of them.”

Sokka frowns. “But aren’t dragons…” Agni-blessed, he doesn’t say. It doesn’t make sense for them to be killed off, unless…

“Sozin was scared of them exposing the very thing that had spurred his legacy to heights never seen before.” Zuko sounds like he’s reciting the part about Sozin’s legacy from memory. “So he decided to kill them all. Made it seem like it was for glory, but he just wanted to get rid of them. If you killed a dragon, you’d become a legendary firebending master and earn the title of Dragon.”

That title sounds oddly familiar. Sokka’s eyes widen as he remembers Iroh - the Dragon of the West. A shadow passes in front of the sun, and he feels colder than he should be. “So Iroh…”

Zuko shakes his head, eyes glued to the ground. “Uncle didn’t actually kill the last dragon. There were two, and he pretended he’d killed them to get everyone off his back.”

“And we met the two!” Aang butts in. “They showed us… a lot of things, actually. I don’t think we’re supposed to talk about it.”

“I’d rather not,” murmurs Zuko.

Aang takes this in stride. “But that’s how we learned how to make dragon fire!”

“Dragon fire?” Sokka asks, hoping to bring Zuko back to the present.

It seems to work, as Zuko nods and holds out a hand, a vortex of multicolored flame swirling in his palm. Sokka tilts his head and grabs Zuko’s wrist to bring it closer to his face, gazing at the fire in awe.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathes, now that he’s up close to it.

“Fire can be,” is Zuko’s answer. He sighs. “My father just tends not to see it that way.”

Sokka shrugs. “Still pretty.” He lets go of Zuko’s wrist, who lets the fire disappear. He taps Zuko’s nose, missing the warmth. “Pretty fire for a pretty boy.”

“Am I pretty?” Aang asks, a grin on his face. Bastard. Sokka had forgotten about him.

Looking away from Zuko’s pink face, Sokka rolls his eyes, though there’s a smile on his face. “Ask my sister.”

Aang sighs with that dopey grin he gets whenever someone brings up Katara. “Maybe I will.” Sokka stifles a smile at the kid’s actions; he’s so far gone. Then his brain reminds him that Sokka’s almost as far gone as Aang. Maybe even further gone. Sokka tells his brain to shut up before he looks at the person who’s captured his attention since day one.

Zuko’s looking at him, an expression on his face that makes Sokka think that maybe his affection isn’t so one-sided. Maybe they’ll be able to call it love at some point. (Some point soon, maybe when they’re not about to fight a war.)

“Oh!” Aang jumps up. “Do you know what we should do, now that there’s more of us?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “Go see the Mechanist! And Haru and his mustache! Boy’s night!”

Lips twitching, Sokka glances over to Zuko, who’s glaring back.

“Do not,” Zuko warns under his breath as Sokka pulls him up to his feet.

Sokka flashes him a grin. “I would never mention  _ anything _ about Haru Junior.”

Aang overhears. “Haru Junior? Is that what he calls his mustache?”

Sokka snickers, ignoring the hard jab Zuko gives him. “Sure.”

The trio find Haru easily. He has not shaved off his mustache, to Zuko’s - and Sokka’s - immense disappointment.

Their disappointment, however, is helplessly overshadowed by mirth when Aang waves enthusiastically at Still-Mustached Man in the middle of a crowded street.

“Haru! How’s Haru Junior doing? Why haven’t you shaved him?”

Sokka chokes on his spit and he doubles over cough-laughing as Zuko clutches at his arm.

“Please tell me Aang didn’t just… say that,” Zuko says faintly, now holding on to Sokka’s shaking shoulders.

“He did,” Sokka manages to choke out, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he swallows down his laughter. He spots Haru’s face, which is horrified, embarrassed, and an absolutely  _ delightful _ shade of red, and promptly bursts out into hysterical laughter again.

“Um.” Haru glances around at the street, where people are now staring at them. “Maybe not here, Aang.” Then he realizes what that sounds like when paired with what Aang had said, and he looks just about ready to disappear into the ground.

Okay. Damage control.

Sokka, having controlled his laughter (mostly), strolls forward, talking a bit too loudly. “Haru! My dude! You still haven’t shaved this guy-” he taps Haru’s upper lip, “-I see. Pity. Do you think you can take us back to your home? We have a lot to catch up on, old friend.” He hears people on the street start moving again and smirks. Good, it worked.

Haru blinks, a weird expression on his face. “Sokka?” Then he looks behind Sokka and his expression turns even weirder. “Zuko?”

“Hello,” comes Zuko’s voice from behind Sokka’s right shoulder.

Haru shakes his head as if clearing it, and nods. “We. Yeah. Have a lot to catch up on. But, um.” He holds up a shopping list. “I was… doing shopping.” His tone tilts up at the end, making the statement sound more like a question.

“We can do it,” Zuko says, voice softer than normal. Sokka’s not sure if Haru notices. “Sokka loves shopping.”

Sokka beams, stepping back so he’s shoulder to shoulder with Zuko. “That I do!”

“Should we split up?” Aang asks. “We can get back faster that way.”

Shrugging, Sokka glances at Zuko, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. Zuko nods. “Sure. Haru, are you fine with being stuck with Aang, or would you rather take one of us irresistible specimens of young manhood?” Sokka slides an arm across Zuko’s waist, grinning.

Haru looks like he’s been kicked in the head for some reason, doe-wide eyes flicking back and forth between first Zuko and Sokka, then between the two of them and Aang. He gives them a shaky smile. “I’m fine with Aang, as long as he promises not to make any more comments about my mustache. Or say anything about Haru Junior.”

Aang’s smile is simultaneously scheming and innocent. “No promises.”

Haru looks slightly panicked. “Oh, for the love of- Okay. What about this: you don’t say anything about my mustache or Haru Junior, and I’ll shave it when I get home. Deal?”

Tapping his chin, Aang nods. “Deal!”

Haru exhales, clearly relieved. “Good.” He tears the shopping list in half and gives half of it to Sokka with a decent amount of coins. “We meet back here in an hour?”

“Or we could make it a race!” Aang exclaims, ignoring Haru’s protests. “Winner gets to keep their money.” Haru’s protests grow even louder. Tui and La, Aang is getting more chaotic by the day. Sokka blames Toph; she’s a bad influence.

That, however, doesn’t stop him from gleefully accepting the challenge. “You’re on,” he declares. Without waiting for a response, he’s grabbing Zuko’s hand and sprinting towards the first shop on the list, hearing Aang’s whoop fade behind them.

The two of them are done relatively quickly and make it back to the rendezvous point with no sign of the other pair.

“So,” Zuko says with a tiny grin as they take a seat. “We’ve gotten Haru to both shave his mustache  _ and _ give us his money.”

Sokka smirks. “Win-win, if you ask me.” He springs up when he sees Aang dragging Haru towards them. “Hey, losers!”

Aang pouts but tosses Sokka his pouch of money.

Haru groans. “First I get humiliated in front of dozens of people, now my money’s getting stolen?”

“Yep.” Sokka then pours a handful of coins into Haru’s hand. “You can keep some, though.”

“Thanks.” Shoving the coins into a pocket, Haru eyes the bag Sokka’s holding mournfully, then sighs. “I guess we’re going back to mine, then.”

They make it back to Haru’s house and find the Mechanist as well.  _ Perfect, _ thinks Sokka grimly as he kneels with the others.

“Sokka!” the Mechanist exclaims with a warm smile, the tufts of his eyebrows lifting. “Here to visit an old man, or do you have a demand?”

“Kind of a request, actually,” says Sokka with a glance at the Avatar.

Aang takes over. “This might come as a bit of a surprise, but the Yokai Lord is planning an invasion of our land.”

“It’s not,” mutters Teo from where he’s rolled into the room, wheels nearly silent. “We all know he’s greedy and that nothing’s going to stop him. We were waiting for something like this to happen.” His eyes fix on Zuko’s and narrow. “Speaking of the Yokai Lord, wouldn’t his son run back to him with information on us? He’d kill us and burn this entire city to the ground. Maybe we should stop him before he can rat us out.” He pulls something from out of a wheel and hurls it towards Zuko.

Digging his boomerang out, Sokka cuts the wooden dart cleanly in half when it flies in front of him and ignores Teo’s horrified stare. “Zuko here was the person who told us about the invasion,” he says. “It’s why we know about it in the first place.”

“Oh,” says Teo with wide eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Zuko says with a grimace. “I’m used to it.”

Aang starts explaining the things they need as Sokka gives Zuko a Look. “You’re used to it?” he hisses from the corner of his mouth.

Zuko shrugs. “My father’s hurt a lot of people,” he mumbles.

Sokka makes a sad face and scoots closer to Zuko, brushing the backs of their hands together. He receives a small smile and another brush of their hands in return.

The Mechanist is stroking his mustache (which looks good on him, unlike Haru) across the room. He nods. “We can do that. After all, we owe you for many things, Avatar. Thank you for keeping the peace.”

Aang grins and scratches the back of his head. “I try. And thank you for agreeing.”

“It was no problem at all! We don’t want Ozai taking over as much as you.” The Mechanist rises and bows. “Take care.”

Aang bows back, as do Sokka and Zuko, and they leave the house.

“That was pretty easy,” Aang comments, leading the way. “Except for Teo trying to kill Zuko, of course.”

Sokka frowns and moves closer to Zuko when he remembers the panic that had spiked in his chest when Teo had thrown that dart.

“We’re lucky you have so many connections,” Zuko says with a twist of his mouth, taking Sokka’s hand in his own and squeezing it after a moment.

“Well, you know,” laughs Aang with a quick smile thrown over his shoulder, not noticing their clasped hands. He continues talking about Avatar duties or something while Sokka tries (and probably fails) to cover up his excitement when meeting Zuko’s eyes. (They’re uneven and lovely and the scarlet draws attention to their color. Sokka wouldn’t have it any other way.)

Zuko gives a tentative smile, though his gaze is sad when he murmurs, “This is bad timing, isn’t it?”

Sokka sighs and nods. “We should probably wait.”

“After the battle?” Zuko asks.

Sokka tries for a reassuring smile. “After the battle.”

Zuko nods and squeezes Sokka’s hand one last time. Then their hands return to their sides, feeling strangely empty as their fingers curl around nothing but air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i changed earth rumble a bit. you still try to push your opponent out of the court, but bc bending is super rare participants use weapons. pls dont ask about why its called earth rumble if theres no bending [pain]


	3. the sun went down over my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the battle approaches quickly and mercilessly. All too soon, Sokka finds himself standing in a large, deserted, barren plain a few miles away from Senlin Village.
> 
> “It’s almost sunrise,” says Zuko quietly from next to him.
> 
> Aang nods and stands up from where he’d been meditating. The dozens of people behind him stir as well, preparing for the impending fight.
> 
> “This is it,” Sokka murmurs, finding his head turn to look at Zuko.
> 
> Zuko nods, meeting Sokka’s gaze with his own. The rumbling grows to an almost unbearable decibel, and Zuko leans closer to speak directly into Sokka’s ear. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
> 
> Sokka swallows, nods, and takes a deep breath. Then, gathering his nerves, he turns and gathers Zuko in the tightest hug he can manage as the ground shakes below them. “Stay alive for me, okay?”
> 
> “Only if you stay alive for me.” Zuko hugs back even tighter, and the ground splits open with a roar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from ‘lonely moonlight’ by ryan ross
> 
> ohoHO i am RIDICULOUSLY excited to share this one with yall this is the product of me realizing that all i do is write fluff and deciding ‘i will be changing that.’
> 
> see you on the other side!

The day of the battle approaches quickly and mercilessly. All too soon, Sokka finds himself standing in a large, barren plain a few miles away from an evacuated Senlin Village.

“It’s almost sunrise,” says Zuko quietly from next to him.

Aang nods and stands up from where he’d been meditating. The dozens of people behind him stir as well, preparing for the impending fight.

“We all know the plan?” Sokka asks, throwing his boomerang in the air and catching it in order to have something to do with his hands. The knot in his stomach only loosens a tiny bit when everyone nods their assent.

The plan isn’t horribly special, but Sokka had needed one to feel even a tiny bit okay with facing Zuko’s father: Aang and Zuko are to corner Ozai and the rest of them to fight off the yokai. Sokka prays to Tui that the forces they’ve gathered will be enough.

Toph springs to her feet from where she’d been lounging on a stone chair. “They’re here.” Her statement seems unnecessary, as everyone can feel the vibrations under their feet.

Sokka watches, heart in his throat, as the ground a mile in front of them starts shaking.

“This is it,” he murmurs, finding his head turning to look at Zuko.

Zuko nods, meeting Sokka’s gaze with his own. The rumbling grows to an almost unbearable decibel, and Zuko leans closer to speak directly into Sokka’s ear. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Sokka swallows, nods, and takes a deep breath. Then, gathering his nerves, he turns and gathers Zuko in the tightest hug he can manage as the ground shakes below them. “Stay alive for me, okay?”

“Only if you stay alive for me.” Zuko hugs back even tighter, and the ground splits open with a roar.

“Time to go, Zuko!” Aang yells above the groaning of the earth, gliding through the air.

Zuko lets go with a regretful look and steps back, Aang scooping him up with ease.

“Stay alive,” Sokka whispers as he turns to face the charging hordes of yokai. “For Zuko.”

With that thought in mind, he unsheathes his sword and faces the yokai head-on.

It’s fine, at first. Easy enough to slice at and dodge the yokai as they swipe clumsily but powerfully, the ground rumbling under their feet - because of Toph or the fissure where yokai are pushing themselves out from, Sokka isn’t sure; he doesn’t have the fucking time to think about it.

Sokka shrieks when a head attached to an  _ extremely _ long neck passes in front of his face, smiling eerily. Moving quickly, the head circles around him, and Sokka stares transfixed into the woman’s face, sword held close to his body.

Then the face moves a bit closer, and Sokka realizes he’s facing a yokai. He flicks his sword through the layers of neck and steps through the smoke. Finding himself surrounded by leering yokai, Sokka grips his sword with both hands and spins in a circle, nose wrinkling at the smoke that goes up around him.

“Nice job, Snoozles,” compliments Toph, popping out of the ground and turning it over with a push of her hands. A few dozen yokai get sucked underground, and the ground smoothes over as if nothing had happened.

“Thanks,” Sokka responds, sidestepping a yokai and promptly stabbing it in the back.

Toph nods, then yells, “Duck!”

Sokka does, and a chunk of rock flies over him, making contact with a hulking yokai that stumbles backwards with a grunt. Seeing an opening, he darts forward and sinks his sword into its stomach, and it goes up in smoke.

Toph and Sokka work together, managing to drive the yokai away from Senlin Village by a few dozen feet. Sokka thinks he might be getting into a nice rhythm and is about to thank the spirits for uninteresting opponents when the ground rumbles violently under his feet again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a massive, ornate carriage rise out of the chasm, which seems to carry a man who can only be the Yokai Lord.

Oh, mother _ fucker _ .

The yokai around Sokka immediately drop to their knees, prostrating themselves. Sokka flattens himself against the ground and drags Toph down with him, getting as close to a cluster of yokai as he dares.

Ozai leaps out of the carriage and blasts fire out of his hands to soften his landing, seemingly uncaring of the yokai under him that go up in flames. Once on the ground, he gives the bowing yokai a sweeping glance. Sokka lets out a relieved breath when the Yokai Lord’s gaze passes harmlessly over him and Toph, landing on Aang instead.

“Avatar,” Ozai booms, voice reverberating across the land. “This is your last chance to back down.”

Aang swoops down in front of Ozai and meets his gaze, chin tilted up defiantly. “I won’t let you murder more innocent mortals, Ozai.” When he speaks again, it’s with all the voices of past Avatars. “Enough is enough.”

Ozai smiles, a maniacal look in his eyes. “I thought you’d say that.”

With that, he propels himself upwards, jetting towards the Avatar. Aang rises on a large stone pillar to meet the Yokai Lord, eyes and arrows flashing a bright white.

Sokka takes advantage of the distraction that Ozai is and springs on the nearest yokai as the battle kicks back in action. When he turns around, Toph has taken care of the rest of them.

Slashing his way through the yokai that have started crowding around him, Sokka opens his mouth and is about to give Toph a proverbial pat on the back when a massive explosion on Aang’s pillar grabs his attention.

“Zuko!” Sokka yells, eyes drawn towards the center of the yokai. He stands still for a second, praying that however Ozai had attacked, Zuko had managed to deflect it. Sokka’s moment of stillness costs him - he barely manages to dodge and overpower a yokai, hissing when draws blood and only barely missing getting speared by its horns. “Shit.”

Twisting and slicing at another yokai to have it disappear into gas, Sokka chances another look towards the Yokai Lord. A figure that can only be Zuko is pivoting and leaping through yokai and flames alike, attacking with an occasional strip of dragon fire sent through his dual dao.

“He needs help,” Sokka realizes with alarm. “He can’t keep those attacks up for long.”

“Go,” Toph urges, punching boulders and pulverizing half a dozen yokai.

“But-” Sokka ducks and slices, raising his voice to be heard over the clamor of thousands of yokai. “What about you? I’m supposed to help you, Toph!”

“I’ll be fine, Sokka! I’m not the greatest earthbender of all time for no reason,” Toph yells. ( _ She didn’t need you in the first place.) _ “I’ll get you to Ozai. Stay low!”

The ground under Sokka rumbles and rises. He barely has time to drop into a crouch, sword pressed to the ground under his palm, before the entire platform shoots to his left, closer to Zuko.

Wind rushing past his face and filling his ears as he prays to La he won’t fall off, Sokka keeps his eyes fixed firmly on his destination. As soon as he thinks his tiny platform is close enough, Sokka jumps and rolls onto the pillar, where Ozai is thankfully distracted by Aang.

As Sokka’s only safe way off the stone column crumbles behind him, Zuko runs up with both blades in one hand.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko hisses, glancing around. He turns and punches fire towards one of the last remaining yokai that had been lifted by the pillar as it creeps up on him. “Sokka, you shouldn’t be here.”

Sokka can’t help but feel hurt, scrambling to his feet in order to have an excuse to hide his face. Zuko keeps hovering, like he doesn’t want to be seen with Sokka. “Why not?” He’d thought Zuko might be happy - or relieved, at least - but evidently not.

Zuko’s shoulders tense. “I want you to stay safe.” He looks away to purposefully slice the last yokai to bits. “My father always takes away every precious thing.”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Sokka feels unquestionably childish, Zuko’s words a slap to the face. He opens his mouth, not knowing what’s going to come out of it. An apology? A confession? He isn’t sure.

Even though there are no more yokai left on the platform, Zuko still isn’t looking at Sokka. Sokka’s chest hurts from how much he wants Zuko to look at him, to understand how much he cares. He longs to tell Zuko about the soft, fluttery, syrup-sweet yearning he feels but he just can’t translate it into words.

So he reaches out instead.

“Hey,” Sokka says softly, fingers barely skimming Zuko’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”

Zuko turns his head to look at Sokka, the very definition of miserable. Looking pained and hopeful, he opens his mouth to respond but is abruptly interrupted.

“So you’re the one who my worthless son betrayed me for,” growls a new voice.

Sokka’s attention snaps to the man responsible for so much grief in the world, spotting Aang flying off towards a writhing mass of water that can only be Katara’s doing.

Ozai is scowling with disgust clear on his features, and Sokka’s vision turns red.

“Zuko is anything but useless,” Sokka snaps. “ _ You’re _ the one who decided to blind and hinder yourself.”

Ozai shakes his head, mirth flashing coldly in his eyes for a split second. Apparently deeming that Sokka isn’t worth his attention anymore, he sneers at Zuko, who’s stepped away from Sokka. “You’ve been ignoring your destiny to help a peasant like  _ him? _ I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on you that you were  _ never _ fit to be my son.”

Zuko scoffs, sliding into a ready stance as he keeps his head held high. His stare is cruel and deadly, unlike anything he’s ever aimed at Sokka. “You were never fit to be a father,  _ Ozai. _ Nobody would fucking miss you if you were to disappear.”

All mirth disappears from Ozai. “Are you threatening me?”

“Maybe I am.” Yellow meets yellow as Zuko and Ozai lock eyes, tension ramping up.

A corner of Ozai’s mouth turns up, but it’s lacking real amusement. “Hm.” He raises two fingers, and the air around the three of them starts crackling with energy. As the smell of ozone fills the air, Ozai lifts his hand above his head, blue light haloing his head.

Zuko exhales and sheathes his swords, one palm facing out towards Ozai.

Time seems to slow down as Ozai’s hand snaps forward, and the lightning follows the path his fingers carve out with a sickening  _ snap _ . Too late, Sokka realizes that it’s arching towards him.  _ There’s something beautiful about even the deadliest of things, _ he thinks, ears ringing, strangely calm despite his imminent death.

But then a familiar red-clad body leaps in front of Sokka, the lightning encasing it greedily in a shell of flickering white energy, and all he can do is stare. His thoughts narrow into a single resounding,  _ ‘No.’ _

Several voices seem to combine with Sokka’s own scream of, “Zuko!”

Sokka sees Zuko twist in slow motion, arms tucked into his torso and a determined look on his face. His face relaxes as he nears the floor, at odds with his rapidly convulsing body, which still has residual lightning flaring up around it. Sokka’s soul might as well be floating above the battle, because all he can do is stare in pure horror as Zuko falls to the ground.

Then Zuko hits the ground and Sokka’s soul crashes back into his body, leaving him shell shocked. How could Ozai bear to shoot someone full of lightning like that, let alone his own son?

Distantly, Sokka is aware of Katara dropping on the platform and immediately heading towards Ozai. He hears a whoosh of wind quickly after, signaling Aang’s descent.

The reason why is soon made visible when Aang appears in front of Sokka, grief turning his eyes turbulent. “Sokka? I’m going to put some walls up around you so you can have some privacy. Katara and I will give you cover and try not to let Ozai get near you, but no guarantees. I’m really sorry - about everything, really - but…”

But the battle (relentless, heartless, intolerant) can’t wait. It won’t wait for anyone, even though Sokka’s heart feels like it’s been shot full of electricity along with Zuko.

Sokka knows with his entire exhausted, frayed being that it won’t wait, knew what he was going to be risking when he’d volunteered to fight in an extremely outmatched battle despite not being able to bend like the others.

He nods once and Aang takes off again, the ground shooting up to surround Sokka and Zuko. The sounds of the battle continue outside the walls.

Sokka had expected to feel anger or grief, but he just feels like someone’s sucked his emotions away. Numb, he walks towards Zuko and falls to his knees, carefully gathering the other in his arms and hugging him close as silent tears fall down his face. He can’t tell if the coldness of Zuko’s skin is because of his senses malfunctioning or because- no. He won’t think about it. He can’t.

Sokka hugs Zuko closer, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” a running mantra in his head. He doesn’t realize he’s saying it out loud, over and over, until Yue appears in front of him.

He falls silent, staring at the first person he’d ever fallen in love with. She’s looking at the two of them with urgency and sadness, her lips moving, but Sokka can’t hear her no matter how hard he strains, hearing the rapid beating of his heart over the sounds of the battle instead of Yue’s sweet voice. He squeezes his eyes shut, unable to take it.

“Sokka,” someone croaks.

Sokka’s eyes fly open and he stares down into the face of the one person who’s come to mean so fucking much to him in the short time they’ve known each other. “Zuko?” Sokka asks frantically, moving his head closer and hand automatically moving on top of his heart, giving the raw-looking wound at the bottom of his sternum a wide berth. A sob tears out of his throat. “Zuko, you impulsive fucking idiot, I thought you-” he breaks off, breath hitching as he hides his face from Zuko.

“Sokka,” Zuko repeats, an impossibly tender look on his face.

Sokka looks back down at Zuko almost frantically. “Yes, love? What is it?”

A tear slips out of Zuko’s eye as his gaze catches on Sokka’s and locks there. Zuko’s eyes close in a slow blink, and Sokka swears he feels his heart stop. It only resumes beating when Zuko’s eyelashes flutter, eyes reopening into exhausted slits.

“I wish I’d known you sooner,” Zuko whispers, the rasp in his voice taking over completely. “That I’d treasured the moments we had together more.”

“Don’t say that.” Sokka feels the telltale burning behind his eyes and nose. “Zuko, darling, don’t say it like we’re not going to be able to see each other after this, after you’re all healed.”

Zuko shakes his head imperceptibly, like it takes too much effort. His eyes speak his thoughts loud and clear, a heartbreakingly gentle look on his features.  _ We’re not going to be seeing each other after the battle. _

Too late, Sokka realizes that he never should have told Zuko to talk, that he should have told Zuko to just shut the fuck up and save his energy so they could have been with each other just a bit longer. A shaking hand comes up to trace his features with a feather light touch (too light, too flimsy, too insubstantial), and Sokka feels the burn spill out of his eyes and down his face as reality sinks in.

“Thank you,” Zuko breathes out, hand flopping back down. His heartbeat flutters, a thready, delicate thing, as he looks up at Yue. A look of serenity fits into place on his face then, and Sokka realizes that Yue’s here to guide Zuko to the spirit world just as Zuko’s eyes slide shut. His body slumps in Sokka’s arms, like Yue’s had so, so long ago.

“No,” Sokka whispers, shaking hand checking Zuko’s neck for something,  _ anything. _   
Nothing.

Something inside of Sokka snaps.  _ “No!” _ He screams, raw and guttural and pained, one lover’s body turning cold in his arms and another lover’s light shining over both of them like the cruelest fucking spotlight in the world.

“You were supposed to stay alive for me,” he bites out, choking on his rage as he hugs Zuko’s limp body close to him. He registers the coolness of the body and wishes with all his might that it could be warmer. “For  _ us _ .” In his grief, Sokka doesn’t notice his tears on Zuko’s fingers turning a soft silver, slowly trailing down Zuko’s arm.

Sokka sits there for a second, breathing hard, then stands up slowly after slowly lowering Zuko’s body to the ground and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Looking up at the moon, Sokka feels a sense of complete calm fall over him as something that had lain dormant in him for centuries finally starts stirring. The light of the moon feels familiar, like ice and snow and multicolored flame, and for a moment it fills his vision. Then, it retreats.

Sokka takes a deep breath and cracks his neck, reforging his heart with his pain as he glares, steely and determined and uncaring of the tears still running down his face.  _ If the battle will be heartless, _ he vows,  _ so will I. _

Breathing in again, Sokka focuses on the newly-awakened energy and on his exhale,  _ pushes _ with all his anger and grief. After a moment, he starts floating a bit above the ground, and he smiles slowly, testing out the boundaries of his power.

“Thank you, Yue,” he murmurs, bowing his head.

Then he flicks his wrist and shoots up, hovering above the battlefield and shielded by moonlight.

He has some yokai-stopping to do.

* * *

Zuko opens his eyes to see Roku - Roku from the stories his mother used to tell, Roku from his great-grandfather’s era - looking down at him from on top of his dragon (Fang, Zuko remembers), and it’s at this moment that Zuko knows for certain that he’s died.

He can’t regret it, though. He won’t. He’d known from the moment he’d locked eyes with Sokka that their story would be a tragedy. (Zuko doesn’t deserve a happy ending.)

Sokka had been too good to him, too  _ pure _ for someone like him, for their time together to last. Zuko had known this, but he’d believed wholeheartedly that his life had no meaning, so he hadn’t run that fateful midsummer day. Maybe he ought to have run, but he’d died with a purpose because of Sokka. He’d died with honor.

“Are you here to escort me to the spirit world?” Zuko asks as he stands up, looking up at Roku. Nothing in his body hurts, but he supposes that makes sense if he’s not in his physical body anymore.

Roku opens his mouth to respond, and Zuko waits with bated breath to hear what the legendary past Avatar has to say.

“You’re already in it.”

Zuko blinks. “...What?”

Roku ignores his confusion and continues speaking in his age-roughened voice. “I’m here to escort you to the Council.”

“The Council,” repeats Zuko dumbly. “As in… the original gods?”

“Yes,” replies Roku. “They have refused to see anyone in the past few millennia, spirit or not, but they’re waiting for us now.” He looks expectantly at Zuko. “Well? Are you going to get on, or are you going to keep them waiting?”

Panicking but trying his best to hide it, Zuko scrambles onto Fang’s back, and they take off.

The ride to the Council’s valley is long enough that Zuko would have started dozing off if it weren’t for the fear of falling off.

...And the knowledge that he’s the first person in literal millions of years to see the Council with his own two eyes. The thought is enough to keep his drooping eyelids open in apprehension. What do they want with him? Are they finally sick of Sozin’s way of thinking and have decided to punish his descendants?

Roku speaks for the first time the whole time they’ve been in the air. “Stop worrying. You’ll be fine.”

“How do  _ you _ know that?” Zuko curbs his anger at the last moment, realizing that he’s talking to the past Avatar and he should show respect despite how much of a liar Roku seems like right now.

Roku doesn’t respond, and Zuko sighs, deciding to focus on his breathing in an attempt to calm down.

It’s another few hours before Roku speaks again, uttering the two words Zuko had been dreading for the entire trip.

“We’re here.”

Fang descends far too quickly for Zuko’s taste, and as soon as Roku and Zuko get off, he disappears. Zuko can’t blame him - the energy rushing through the valley is insane. It’s a good thing there’s no bending in the spirit world, because otherwise he thinks he’d be going up in flames right now, his inner fire stoked enough to consume him.

Roku stops in the middle of a grassy clearing. “Close your eyes.”

Zuko, on edge, does as he’s told. The energy gets almost unbearable, coursing around him at an incredible speed, but then it slows.

“You can open your eyes now,” Roku murmurs. Zuko does so, opening his eyes to find a massive, deadly sharp claw in front of him. It’s attached to a massive golden foot, and Zuko’s eyes travel up until he’s craning his neck back and finding a massive dragon head staring down impassively at him with eyes that seem to be made of dragon fire.

Ah, fuck.

Zuko immediately prostrates himself on the lush grass, pressing his forehead into the ground and ignoring the immediate increase of energy. He dares not move in fear of offending the god in front of him, the very god that Sozin had claimed he’d been blessed by.

There’s silence for a few very long moments. Then, the dragon speaks.

“Great-grandson of former Yokai Lord Sozin. Great-grandson of former Avatar Roku. Grandson of former Yokai Lord Azulon. Son of Yokai Lord Ozai. Son of Ursa. Nephew of Iroh. Friend of the Avatar. Heir to the throne of the yokai,” Agni rumbles, cold voice emanating from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Rise, Zuko.”

Zuko does so and moves into a deep bow, eyes closed, still not running the risk of standing up normally or speaking.

After what seems like an eon, Agni speaks again. “I was not aware of the depths of your great-grandfather’s deception.”

Zuko frowns, then realizes what Agni’s talking about.

“I had been aware of his false claims of my blessing and found it unnecessary to disprove them, but that was an oversight on my part,” Agni continues, land shaking with his voice. “I had never thought him capable enough to breed so much hate in his family. But he has sown seeds of hatred deep in the hearts of the future Yokai Lords. Somehow, they were never challenged, and the false claim got to their heads. The Lords started abusing their power, believing it was their destiny simply because of the eye color. I pity those fools.

“Somehow, Ozai has so much hate bred into him that he found it easy to murder his own child. He stripped himself of his humanity long ago, and by doing so, stripped himself of whatever good I may have thought of him.”

Zuko starts to shake from holding the same position for so long, but he grits his teeth and listens.

“While Iroh and Azula may not have believed the words of their fathers, you were the first in generations who actively disobeyed your father. By doing so, you brought his wrath upon you.” Agni stops. “Look at me.”

Zuko opens his eyes and slowly straightens out of the bow. The claw in front of him shrinks considerably until he can look up more comfortably at Agni, who’s now roughly the same size as Fang.

Zuko doesn’t know why he’s being told this information when he’s dead anyways, but he obeys the words of the being in front of him and meets his eyes.

“Because of that, you have proven yourself worthy of my true blessing.” Agni’s whiskers flare around his snout for a second. “Do you understand what this means?”

Zuko only knows of one true tale where someone had received Agni’s blessing. He nods, all fear replaced with awe. “I understand.”

“Good.” Agni’s disembodied voice sounds marginally less cold than it had before. “Stay still.”

Agni presses a claw to Zuko’s forehead as he closes his eyes, and the energy starts to pick up speed again. This time, though, it doesn’t tear at him like before - it moves with him.

An image floats into Zuko’s mind - Sokka’s face, set into a fierce scowl. Zuko wants to sob at the image but he can’t move, so he savors the one last glimpse of him before it inevitably disappears, taking a piece of Zuko with it.

But then Sokka reappears, this time floating in the air, true and tall as he stares down at something below him. There’s moonlight haloing him, and instead of washing out the colors of his skin and clothes it compliments them.

Then Sokka moves and the moonlight stays where it is instead of moving around him, and Zuko’s eyes widen as he realizes what that means - the moonlight is either coming from Sokka, or he’s bending it. Zuko would insist that bending light is impossible, but his perception of ‘impossible’ has been skewed a bit, so he ignores the technicalities and keeps his focus firmly on Sokka.

Zuko is moved closer to Sokka, close enough that his face is once again the only thing visible. Sokka’s face is scarily empty, his emotions seemingly turned off, and a shiver of cold shoots through Zuko as he stares at Sokka’s closed eyes.

The bolt of cold turns into full-blown fear and shock rippling through his body when Sokka’s irises suddenly turn a pale silver color, rage filling his face. It’s not like the Avatar State, when Aang’s entire eye starts glowing. No, it’s Sokka’s eye color changing from that beautiful clear blue to an infinitely more shocking silver.

More things start fitting into place in Zuko’s head, but he doesn’t have enough time to sort through them. Warmth starts burning through Zuko, midday sun rushing through his veins and dispelling the remaining cold fear.

The warmth and the image of liquid silver falling down a scowling face are the last things Zuko is aware of before everything fades away.

* * *

From this high up, the yokai are ant-sized. Moving over the fighting masses, Sokka can spot where they’re coming from, and his mind starts coming up with a plan immediately - but he needs the others to carry it out.

Sokka searches the battlefield, frowning, until his eyes fall on the earthen pillar Aang had made.

Right.

Sokka has been so distracted that he’d forgotten about the deal he’d made with the Avatar. He floats closer to the pillar, wrapping moonlight around him as he goes, getting close enough to see Ozai fighting both Aang and Katara, both sides locked in a stalemate.

Until Azula arrives, jumping off the back of a yokai. “Father. What do you-” She breaks off as her gaze lands on the wall in the middle of the earthen platform. Her eyes narrow, and she sends the yokai away with a flick of her wrist. She jumps up, boosted by jets of fire, and Katara turns around to send a wall of water towards Azula, jaw clenched.

Azula evaporates the water, almost bored, as she lands on top of the wall that still surrounds Zuko’s body. When she looks down, her expression turns to one of horror before it’s quickly replaced by rage.

_ “Who did this?” _ She hisses, voice as smooth and dangerous as a water whip.

“Your dad did,” Katara shoots at her. “He tried to kill Sokka and  _ failed _ .”

“That  _ pathetic _ excuse of a son got in my way,” Ozai growls. “He was just collateral damage. I’ll get his peasant nonbender friend” - he spits out the words, as if they’re dripping with poison - “once I get past these two.” He sends a fireball towards Aang, who’s forced to bend it away lest it hit Katara. The two of them are back to back, each of them facing yokai royalty.

_ “Collateral damage?” _ Azula looks absolutely murderous, her low voice so sharp it could have cut steel.

Ozai snorts. “That boy is worth more to me dead.”

That’s the wrong thing to say.

Azula springs off the wall without a sound, and Katara throws ice up above her head. Noticing this, Aang spins around and leaves his back exposed to Ozai, fully prepared to fight Azula.

But Azula has turned on her father, firing off bolts of blue flame with incredible precision, making it clear she’s out for blood. Ozai’s expression turns to one of panic as he realizes that Azula’s turned and stabbed him in the back.

“You might be allowed to call my brother worthless,” Azula snarls. “But  _ nobody _ ,” she sweeps with her foot, sending a low wave of fire towards Ozai, “is allowed to say that he’s  _ better off dead. _ ” She executes a series of spinning kicks, more and more fire shooting towards her father.

Katara and Aang watch, stunned, as Ozai is forced back further and further until he’s at the very edge of the platform.

Seeming to realize that he has no other option, electricity crackles around Ozai for a second time that evening. “I expected this from your brother,” he spits. “But from you? I gave you everything. And  _ this _ is how you repay me?”

Azula doesn’t react, uncaring of the lightning that’s surrounding Ozai. “I dealt with you, stayed on your good side, but it’s too late to continue like that now. Go on,” she goads. “Kill me like you did Zuko.”

Feeling sick at the sight of Ozai’s lightning, Sokka prepares to intervene somehow, but Aang and Katara are way ahead of him.

A wave sweeps Ozai off his feet, and the ominous crackling stops as he’s dumped unceremoniously on the ground, the water flowing back to Katara. With a few gestures from Aang, his hands are trapped in place, pinned by stone. He grunts, trying to break out of his bonds.

Azula stalks forward, summoning lightning of her own. “I should get rid of you.” Her voice is devoid of emotion. “I don’t need a reason to kill. You always told me that. I have more than enough reason to murder you right now. Not to mention that I have no use in keeping you around anymore.”

Aang starts moving forward, but Katara meets his eye and shakes her head. He grinds to a stop slowly.

“I should kill you,” Azula repeats, lightning framing her head. “But I won’t.” She thrusts her hand into the sky, everything flashing white for a second. “You’ve spilled enough blood for the both of us.” Then she’s flying off, a jet of blue-white fire from her foot burning off Ozai’s topknot.

Sokka’s impressed. He hadn’t been expecting that from the bloodthirsty Princess Azula, but Zuko’s someone who can change your life with just a tiny, tentative smile.

An empty smile appears on Sokka’s face when he watches Aang press his thumb to Ozai’s forehead.  _ Getting rid of his bending now won’t bring Zuko back, _ he thinks, then mentally slaps himself.  _ Neither will moping about it. Snap the fuck out of it, Sokka. _

He lowers himself onto the platform just as Aang steps back and Ozai slumps, defeated.

“Nice work.” Sokka’s voice sounds hollow, but Katara gasps and spins around all the same.

“Sokka!” She trails off. “Your eyes. What happened?”

Sokka meets her gaze, confused. “What do you mean?”

In response, Katara bends an ice mirror in front of him. Peering into it, Sokka realizes that his irises have turned a silvery white. He turns his head, watching his eyes move in his head. “Huh. Neat.”

“ _ Neat? _ ” Katara demands. “Sokka, our eyes-”

“Used to match each other’s perfectly and are a symbol of our heritage,” Sokka finishes. “I know. But Tui had surprises hiding in his fins, I guess.”

The hurt on Katara’s face melts into bemusement. “Tui?”

With a weak smile on his face, Sokka holds up a hand and lets moonlight flicker between his fingers. “We were both blessed, remember? I just needed some… severe emotional distress to unlock my bending, apparently.”

Katara’s face crumples as she looks at Sokka, eyes swimming with realization and desolation and a dozen other emotions. “Sokka,” she says gingerly, one hand lifting up slightly.

Sokka looks back and his heart breaks just a little bit more at the sight of his baby sister looking so vulnerable, so  _ young. _ (He doesn’t think he’s seen her like this since Kya. His chest hurts like it always does, and he doesn’t know if it’ll ever stop.) “Katara,” he says, a warning with no bite.  _ Leave it. _

Katara’s fingers wander to her necklace, then to the boomerang/blob of water/arrow that hangs right below the betrothal charm on a metal chain so fine that no mortal could have forged it. Then she nods, expression still bleak.

“What do you even bend?” Aang asks after a moment of the siblings staring at the ground, though his cheer seems forced. Ozai is still slumped on the ground behind him, now with stone shackles around his wrists and ankles.

“Moonlight and gravity, as far as I can tell. Everything the moon can affect.” Sokka closes his hand into a tight fist, snuffing out the cold light and wishing for the warmth of flames. He strengthens his resolve, feeling his face shift into the one Zuko had called his planning face. (“You look good when you’re focused,” he’d said once. Sokka had wanted to jump him and show Zuko just how  _ focused _ he could get.) His expression threatens to collapse when memories upon memories cascade through his head, but he squeezes his eyes shut and speaks. “But right now I have a plan to get those yokai back to where they belong: far beneath the ground. Get Toph over here.”

Aang stops four times on the ground, and Toph arrives with a rumbling of earth that has more than a few earthbound yokai getting buried.

“What?” She demands, shooting a foot out and sending five yokai flying off the side of the pillar they’re still standing on. “I’m kind of busy here.”

“I have a plan,” Sokka says.

“Then tell us, Snoozles.”

Sokka does, and once he’s done, everyone’s nodding and aware of their roles.

“Time to kick some serious yokai ass,” Toph says with a grim smile. “Ready?”

“Let’s go,” is Aang’s determined reply.

The pair takes off, surrounding the herd of yokai from the back of their formation with gigantic walls similar to those still around Zuko.

That leaves the Water Tribe siblings picking off the yokai that are flying and climbing up the newly made walls. They don’t talk, working in sync to kill together.

Sokka floats a group of yokai in the air, all of them struggling to get out of the anti-gravity bubble he has them in, and Katara picks them off, her ice daggers hitting with deadly accuracy. To finish them off, Sokka lets his boomerang fly, glowing silver as it takes out the remaining yokai.

He catches it when it comes whirring back and floats the next group of yokai. Katara unleashes a volley of ice daggers, then curses.   
“I’m out of water.”

Sokka gives the half-full moon a quick glance. “You can bend blood under the full moon, right?”

Katara doesn’t question the motives behind his question. “Yeah.”

“Can you bend it like you can bend water? Can it freeze?”

“Probably,” is Katara’s answer. It’s good enough for Sokka.

He throws the still-suspended yokai carelessly in the air, ignoring their abruptly cut off screams as they hit the ground. Sokka focuses on the moon, and moving into a stance he’s seen Zuko use out of instinct, imagines it shifting. Nothing happens, so he grits his teeth and tries again. Something starts shifting, and when Sokka pushes harder, the moon starts swelling, more light being shed on the world. When it’s as round as a moon peach, he stops and holds up his blood-covered boomerang.

“You can use this.”

Katara bends the blood off the boomerang without complaint, though she does give her brother a worried look.  _ I’m fine, _ Sokka doesn’t say, instead lifting another group of yokai and throwing his boomerang again with an empty kind of determination.

Aang and Toph finally finish the wall and make their way back to the top of the stone pillar where Sokka and Katara stand. With the four of them, the remaining yokai are quickly eradicated - some poured back through the crack in the earth, some picked off by benders, where they disappear in a cloud of dust and mist.

Blurriness encroaching on the edges of his vision, Sokka looks down at the now-empty battlefield, contained within massive walls. “We won,” he says, voice dull. Then, as if his body registers what he’s just said, a wave of exhaustion and grief hits, and he collapses to the ground as the creeping darkness floods his vision.

  
  


_ What did your victory require? _

_ Everything. _ __   
_ My dear, my love. _ _   
_ __ My sunlight.

_ And it was all my fault entirely. I could’ve stopped it, could’ve kept him alive. But I don’t know how to protect people. _

_ I’m sorry, Zuko. I’m sorry. _


	4. flew like a moth to you, my sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ll be fine,” Sokka had said.
> 
> OR: the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i promise im not dead i just forgot to post yesterday. at any rate, if youve read this far thank you so fucking much
> 
> chapter title was modified slightly; from ‘sunlight’ by hozier

Sokka wakes up to find Zuko sitting next to his bed, arms crossed and a furrow between his eyebrows. At first he thinks he’s dreaming; yet another cruel joke played by the universe. After all, he saw the life drain out of Zuko’s twitching body, saw what reaction Azula had upon seeing her brother’s corpse.

Hoping against hope, Sokka sits up, mulishly ignoring his battered body’s protests. He reaches out, smoothing out Zuko’s forehead with a gentle touch. Zuko is warm to the touch; warmer than Sokka ever remembers.

_ Even asleep and distressed, he’s beautiful, _ Sokka thinks, tracing two fingers down Zuko’s face.  _ It’s no wonder the spirits have blessed him. _ He marvels at the warmth of Zuko and watches the steady and sure rhythm of his breathing.

But Zuko doesn’t stir.

_ What did you expect? _ Sokka drops his hand as grief crashes over him, tears falling down his face. ( _ Again? _ the back of his mind sneers.)

But then slowly, slowly, Zuko’s eyes blink open, and Sokka suddenly has a lapful of Zuko. What feels like an oversized pentapus clings to Sokka so tightly he swears his ribs are creaking, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest, hanging on just as desperately.

How could he? He’d thought that Zuko was dead, thought that he wouldn’t ever be able to confess his love. Spurred on by this thought, he lessens the strength of his grip, but Zuko doesn’t move or let go.

“Hey,” Sokka whispers. “Zuko.”

Zuko draws back just enough to drop his forehead onto Sokka’s shoulder. He’s still clinging tightly to Sokka, and that makes him smile despite the soreness that’s kicking in with a vengeance. Sokka takes Zuko’s silence as a cue to keep talking.

“I love you.” The words feel so natural leaving Sokka’s lips and come so easily that he swears it’s impossible that he’s never said them to Zuko before.

But he hasn’t, and it’s obvious in the way Zuko draws back, eyes wide with awe. “Sokka,” he breathes.

“I know it’s hard for you to say these words, and I want to tell you that you don’t have to say them back to me yet. I know you love me back,” Sokka smiles, vision blurring with grateful tears, “and that’s enough.”

Zuko shakes his head hard, and his jaw’s set in the way that Sokka’s come to adore. “I- I.” He takes a deep breath and swallows, a somewhat hysterical smile coming over his face. “Why is this so hard to say? I’ve died and gone to the spirit world, for-”

Sokka shuts him up by pulling him into a kiss, because he hasn’t ever done that outside of dreams. Zuko stops talking abruptly, melting into the kiss. Sokka pulls away with a soft smile. “Take your time, love. You’re not going to be able to change what I feel. I’ll adore you, treasure you, cherish you, no matter what happens.”

Something in Zuko’s face softens, and he leans forward to kiss Sokka again, both of their eyes falling shut. “I love you,” he murmurs, and it’s like a dam has broken. He starts pressing kisses over Sokka’s face, repeating the phrase over and over again between each one. “I love you, I love you, I love you,  _ I love you. _ ”

Sokka has half a mind to counter his statements with “I love you more,” but it doesn’t feel like the right time. He connects their lips again instead of speaking, grinning too much for it to work out well. It doesn’t matter, though, because Zuko’s smiling (like a crazy, lovestruck fool) too, eyes shut in bliss. They draw back, and Sokka’s eyes greedily take in every well-known detail of Zuko’s face before he notices something out the window.

“Woah,” he whispers. The sky is a beautiful pale gold color, one that Sokka has never seen in the several centuries he’s been alive.

He feels rather than sees Zuko turn his head. When he speaks, he sounds sheepish. “Sorry. That’s my fault.”

Sokka squints at Zuko. “Why are you sorry? Zuko, you  _ died _ and you’re  _ apologizing _ ? And- wait, did you say  _ you _ did this? How?”

“Um.” Zuko looks a bit nervous but holds up his hand as if cradling a baby turtleduck - only instead of a turtleduck, he’s holding a ball of golden light. The light twists around itself, revolving in ribbons. Sokka gazes down at it, awed.

“That’s not fire.”

“No,” agrees Zuko, taking Sokka’s hand to fit their fingers together. “It’s not.”

The light is pleasantly warm and dances across their hands, and Sokka brings their clasped hands up to kiss the back of Zuko’s knuckles, putting two and two together.

“You got blessed by Agni in the spirit world? Like, really, truly blessed?”

“Yeah,” says Zuko. He turns his head, Sokka finally able to look into his eyes and- oh spirits, his eyes had been amber before, but now they’re gold, pure and clear. The  _ real _ eyes of those blessed by Agni; his autumn-leaf eyes had been a pale imitation in comparison to these.

Sokka stares, captivated, his free hand coming up to cup Zuko’s cheek. “Your eyes. They’ve changed too.”

Zuko doesn’t look awfully surprised. “I figured they would. Yours did too, but they’re not white anymore. More… blue. But a silvery blue, lighter than what they looked like before.”

“Really?” Sokka grins. “Oh, that’s awesome! Do they look cool? Tell me they look cool.”

Zuko smiles, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “They look very cool.”

Sokka punches his fist in the air, careful not to hit or dislodge Zuko, then realizes something. “How did you know my eyes were white?”

Zuko shrugs. “I saw a few things in the spirit world.”

Sokka decides not to question it, tired of thinking about Zuko in the spirit realm. Instead, he pulls Zuko closer to rest their foreheads together.

“I missed you, you know,” he murmurs, eyes closed as he cherishes the warmth and weight of Zuko. “So, so much.”

“I know.” The smile is obvious in Zuko’s voice. “I missed you the same amount, I think.”

They stay like that, breathing together, until the latch on the door clicks. Both of them are instantly alert, ready to attack with their hands still clasped together. (Sokka thinks they might look ridiculous, what with Zuko sitting in his lap and all, but he finds that he no longer cares as long as he has Zuko near him.)

The door opens completely to reveal Katara propping it open with a foot, focused on wheeling in a cart with food on it. Then she looks up, and her face morphs into one of shock.

“You’re awake!” Then she takes in their position, and her expression turns a bit more cautious. “Should I come back later?”

Sokka is unable to respond, struck with extreme relief when he sees his baby sister safe and whole. Zuko recognizes this and answers for him, shaking his head.

“I think the others will want to see him.”

That jolts Sokka out of his speechless state. “The others? They’re here?”

Katara has a fondly exasperated expression on her face that’s usually because Sokka’s come to an obvious conclusion via an incredibly roundabout way. (“I’ve connected the two dots.” “You didn’t connect shit!” “I’ve connected them.”)

“Yes, Sokka, the others are here. Believe it or not, they care about you.”

“Oh,” Sokka says.

“Yeah,  _ oh,” _ Katara says, rolling her eyes. The effect of it is lessened by the relieved smile still on her face, but Sokka doesn’t comment on it; he knows the feeling all too well. “So should I go get them or not?”

“Get them,” Sokka responds. “Please.” He wants to see his friends, make sure they’re all at least in one piece.

Katara seems to understand, nodding and pushing the cart over to Sokka’s bed. “I won’t be long.”

After the door closes gently behind her, Zuko squeezes Sokka’s hand to get his attention. “See? You’re enough. You always have been.”

Before Sokka can do more than smile gratefully, the door bursts open again.

Toph flies towards the bed, squeezing both Sokka and Zuko in a tight hug. Aang isn’t too far behind.

“That,” says Sokka, slightly muffled. “Really didn’t take long at all.”

“I said they were here,” says Katara with a laugh as she joins the group hug. “I meant what I said.”

“Get over here, Uncle,” Zuko grumbles as Sokka grins at Katara.

Slightly sheepishly, Iroh sidles into the room from where he’d been poking his head in, then joins the group hug. “I’m very glad you’re awake, Sokka. What would I do without the man who has made my nephew so happy?”

“You know we wouldn’t leave until you woke up,” adds a new voice.

Sokka gasps, straightening up and ignoring the twinge of pain that runs down his spine. “Dad!”

Hakoda smiles at his son, leaning against the doorway. “Hi, Sokka. I’m glad you’ve figured things out.”

“Me too.” Sokka beams. Hakoda grins back, pride and relief plain on his face.

“Just hug us, Dad,” Katara complains after a few seconds.

Hakoda laughs and moves closer. Sokka closes his eyes as the hug grows pleasantly tighter.

“I love you guys, you know,” he declares, receiving a variety of responses.

“We love you too!”

“I love you, comes a quieter answer. “I haven’t said that enough yet.”

“Gross,” says Toph with badly faked disgust.

“You love us, Toph!”

Sokka grins, more than content to accept the incredibly light punch graciously when surrounded by his family.

Outside, cicadas hum, the setting sun paints the sky rainbow, the moon hangs gleaming, and stars continue shining bright.

  
  


_ fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on [tumblr](%E2%80%9Coldpapertowns.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) ;D
> 
> that’s it from me! thank you for reading and sticking with this work. as always, feel vvvv welcome to drop a comment and/or kudos. stay safe, sane, hydrated, etc <3333


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